


Unscheduled Lightsaber Maintenance

by Nekhen, PhrikeDeimos



Series: Advanced SW MMORPG [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Multi, Older Woman/Younger Man, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-12 16:24:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 51,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13551120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekhen/pseuds/Nekhen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhrikeDeimos/pseuds/PhrikeDeimos
Summary: Direct sequel of "Do You Wanna Date My Avatar?".Readjusting to real life, after the convention, is more difficult than Niahm had anticipated–especially while keeping up a long-distance relationship with two unpredictable Knights of Ren.Aka: adventures in adulting of three dysfunctional people.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! I’ve been pondering for a while about publishing something new about these characters, but since the first instalment was already out in the open, I decided to keep on posting.
> 
> While _Avatar_ was written as a one-shot and could be read as such, any new instalment of this ‘verse has been conceived as part of a series, so I’m not sure how much sense each story would make if read as stand alone. Every instalment is also incredibly long, so it’s up to any new reader to decide if they want the hassle to read everything from the beginning, but that’s how I have written them.
> 
> About the ‘verse: _Advanced SW MMORPG_ is a modern AU based on a canon ‘verse that’s yet unpublished, which is why I wasn’t sure about carrying on with posting this in the first place. Alas, that story is very long, very complicated and still under construction, so I have no idea when and if it will ever be posted. That said, readers don’t need to know the main ‘verse to understand this series, since it was conceived as its own self-contained universe, but there are references here and there to it.
> 
> One last note: in this ‘verse, I decided to stick to the beginning of the OG saga, and Luke and Leia are not related. This is the only universe I have written in which I decided not to keep their original family bond, but it felt like the best decision, plot-wise. Also, I have written plenty about them being twins in other ‘verses, and I like to change the background slightly every time I write something new.
> 
> This is it, I think. I hope you will enjoy the story. English is not my first language, so if you spot any mistake please don’t hesitate to let me know. Comments are the sweetest thing for a writer to receive.
> 
> Lyrics are from _Hiding_ by Florence + the Machine.

**UNSCHEDULED LIGHTSABER MAINTENANCE**

 

 

_I know you've tried_

_But something stops you every time_

_You cry a little, so do I, so do I_

 

 

«Here you are. Did you get home alright?»

It was foolish to find Ishtar’s smile so familiar, after such a short time. I smiled back, hopelessly fond, staring at their faces as though I hadn’t seen them in years, instead of fourteen hours. The shitty Skype connection blurred the edges slightly, but their smiles, their traits, the shape of their eyes–everything was perfectly in order, as I catalogued every feature with some sort of anxious, alien hunger.

 _They’re just as I remember them_ , I couldn’t help thinking, as stupid as that was. But I needed to see them, I needed to make sure that they were real, that I hadn’t just dreamt them–no matter how much we’d texted each other during our trip home, I needed to look at their faces to know they truly existed, and weren’t just a figment of my imagination.

It was strange, how devastating was the relief attached to that thought.

«Yes, of course» I replied, as I casted a quick glance to my luggage, still where I’d left it–strewn over the floor, abandoned in my haste to get to my laptop and log on to Skype. I could’ve used the phone, of course, but I wanted to see their faces as clearly as I could, not as small thumbnails on my tiny phone screen. I’d barely taken the time to bolt my door shut.

«Took you long enough to come back from the airport» Kylo mumbled, sounding strangely quiet, almost muted in his dimly-lit room. The shadows were so thick I could barely make out the shape of a bed behind him, and what looked like a cabinet of some sort standing in a corner. The artificial brightness of his monitor was the only source of light.

His sullen tone and the unhappy curl of his mouth brought me back to the airport, to the way he’d scowled as I told them that my flight was being called. Ishtar had hugged me tight, and kissed me wet and deep, unheeding of the people milling around us–but Kylo had dragged me into the circle of his arms and enveloped me with his body, as close as I would go, with such a desperate grip that it’d felt as though he wasn’t really cradling me, but holding onto me for dear life. He’d breathed me in then, slow and deep, and I’d felt the drag of his skin as he rubbed his face against my hair.

«We’re not fancy city people here, the only airport we have is far in the open country» I replied with a little shrug. «I had to take a train and two buses to get back home.»

I’d tried to keep my tone light, but Kylo seemed to take it as a rebuke anyway. He lowered his head, staring at something sitting on his desk, before looking back at me. His big, dark eyes reflected the bluish brightness of his monitor, as they searched my face.

«What time is it, over there?» he asked, in a slightly softer tone. We’d talked a little about where we lived, at least enough to cover the geographic areas and figure out the time-zones, but that had been pretty much the full extent of our conversation about real life. We hadn’t really wanted to think about a time or a place where we would’ve been far apart, scattered like stardust throughout the galaxy. We’d pretended that life had began and finished with that convention, with Ishtar’s hotel bed and with the taste and feeling of our skins, and we’d fed that delusion up to the moment we’d been forced to board our planes.

It would’ve been almost impossible to keep up that fantasy, now. Even if talking through a monitor hadn’t been enough, the drenching heat of Starloft would’ve reminded me that I was miles and miles away from where I’d been that morning. August was still in full swing, and that meant shedding the warmer clothes I’d worn for the convention pretty much as soon as I landed. I was used to that kind of climate, but switching from one temperature to another was never easy. The fact that I rarely bothered to get out of my own apartment, let alone flight to another time-zone, hadn’t done anything to help my body to better adapt to the transition.

I turned, glancing at the red LED alarm clock I kept on my nightstand. For a moment, that detail felt so normal, so deeply ingrained in what I considered my normal life, that the sight threw me–as though it was something belonging to someone else, or to a movie I’d seen so often that the scenery had become familiar, somehow.

«Half past ten» I replied, turning towards my laptop in time to see my own face, from its little corner, sporting a confused frown across its forehead. «What about you?»

«Half past seven» Kylo promptly answered, and it took me a moment to realize how incongruous that was–I didn’t know how long summer days were in Hanna City, but I doubted that its slightly northern latitude warranted for that kind of pitch-black darkness at half past seven in the evening. Kylo was wearing a t-shirt, after all, not a parka.

The thought was a fleeting one, though, and I let it go almost as quickly as it’d come to mind. I didn’t particularly like travelling, and the last three days had been exhausting on multiple levels. I was too tired even to process what had happened -practically without my permission-, let alone wondering about the lights in Kylo’s room.

Ishtar, on the other hand, was bathed in full light. The artificial brightness gave her snowy hair an amber shade.

«Half past nine, in Galactic City» she supplied, as she made her thickly-padded, creamy-white easy chair idly twist left and right. She was gracefully sprawled in what looked like the corner of a big room, with coffee-coloured walls and some sort of cabinet peeking out from behind her shoulders. «You are practically naked» she added, with unmistakable delight. The low cut of her nightgown showcased the dark bruises littering her throat, and I felt a thrill trickling down my spine as I looked.

_It was me. I put those there._

I laughed at her quip, as Kylo dipped his face slightly, self-conscious as though he’d been caught staring. I looked down, taking in the tight white tank-top that left most of my upper body bare and glistening, in the humid heath of the evening. I’d turned on the air conditioning as soon as I got home, but my studio-flat, as tiny as it was, had been bathed in drenching heath for three days, and my rickety AC system was probably older than my uncle.

«It’s actually August here, not what passes for summer up there in the north» I laughed, as I rose on my feet to shim out of my jeans.

«Oooh, and already sexy time?» Ishtar laughed, clapping her hands, but the hunger in her eyes was familiar by now, and easy to spot, even as her lovely lips were drawn up into an excited smirk. Kylo looked like he was ready to melt into his desk out of sheer embarrassment, throwing dart-quick glances in my direction when he thought no one would notice, before going back to stare at the edge of his monitor in utter fascination.

«Not tonight, the two of you have worn me out» I fired right back, as I threw my jeans over the bed and slid back into my wooden chair, resting my barely covered ass on the grey cushion I’d bought enough years before that the padding had become thin. The AC system’s fiery battle against the heath seemed to be trudging towards a happy resolution, so I turned my head up and closed my eyes, enjoying the cooler air trickling from above.

Ishtar laughed openly, allowing her lithe body to go completely boneless in her chair. She lifted one leg, hooking the back of her knee over the armrest and lazily swinging her foot.

«My my, aren’t you out of practice» she grinned, rapping her fingers against her lips, covered in burgundy-red lipstick. «I hope you will at least keep fingering yourself. I’d hate to think you’re wasting all our efforts.»

«That would be terribly rude of me, wouldn’t it?» I snickered, chin propped up on my palm. I let my thumb wander along my throat, until I felt it–the collar of bruises that they’d given me, dotting the pale column of my neck. I wondered if they could see them, just as I could spot the dark shadows left by my teeth on Ishtar’s milky skin, and I shivered at the thought.

The truth was, they truly did their best to use my body as it hadn’t been used in years. I’d been too sore to be penetrated again, after that first time, but where Kylo’s cock couldn’t go, they’d used their mouths and their hands and their clever, clever tongues, licking me open and soothing the sting of their fingers as they pumped steadily into me. Ishtar had found the whole notion of “too sore to fuck” somewhat appalling, but I vaguely suspected that she liked a little pain. The concept wasn’t entirely too repulsive to myself either, but Kevan hadn’t exactly encouraged experimentation during our little time together, so it’d never been more than that–a concept. What I knew, was that the pain that came from the abused muscles of my still-stiff entrance was _not_ the kind I enjoyed.

Kylo, on the other hand, had seemed to love the idea of getting us off, no matter how. We hadn’t really tried anything new during that second night, but he’d been endearingly eager to practice what he’d learnt, again and again and again, as though his mission in life was to get the hang of eating us out in the most masterful way known to man or woman. He would push his face between our thighs with unwavering enthusiasm, listen to every suggestion as though it was holy law, and put every conceivable effort into pleasing us in every way he could think of. He’d also seemed either incapable of keeping his cock down or impervious to fatigue, and we’d taken turns, Ishtar riding him and the both of them getting me off with their fingers or their mouths, as the night ticked by. I’d barely slept one hour, sandwiching Ishtar between Kylo and myself, before dragging my exhausted body to my own hotel room, in which I’d never slept, to get a quick shower and my luggage. I’d met the others directly at the airport, and we’d stayed together to the very last. I’d almost lost my flight to get to touch them one last time.

I would’ve frowned at the waste of money that my hotel room had been, if I hadn’t still had troubles believing that what had happened at the convention was actually real. But when Ishtar asked me to stay with them for another night, I’d been so foolishly happy that I’d thought about nothing at all.

Not true, though–not really _nothing_ at all. What I’d thought right then and there, was the same I would’ve thought later, at the airport, when Ishtar insisted we exchanged numbers and Skype accounts to stay in touch.

_It can’t be real._

I didn’t remember how to be close to anyone–but, at the same time, I didn’t think I could ever soften my grip, now that I’d grabbed them both.

 _We got you, now_ , Ishtar had said. _We’ll never let you go._

I’d believed her. And something, buried deep down inside of me, had replied in kind.

_I got you. And I will never, ever let you go, either._

Ishtar lifted her hair with a tapered hand, letting it flow over her thin shoulders with a lazy flick of her wrist. She was wearing a billowy violet robe with ample long sleeves, almost impalpable-looking, loosely belted over a short nightgown. The creamy thigh she kept hooked over the armrest looked eerily pale against the backdrop of her dark clothes, where the nightgown had ridden up almost to her underwear.

«I don’t really trust your efforts, though» she said, airily enough, but with prickling intent slithering just underneath. «I think I’d better keep an eye on you. I think I should watch you as you do it.»

Her words, her _tone_ made my breath catch in my throat, and for a moment I felt my skin boil and colour stain my cheek, as liquid heath pooled between my legs. The idea of doing just that, of fingering myself open with their eyes weighting on me, sent a shiver down my spine with the crackling electricity of a thunderbolt.

I licked my lips, mouth as dry as sandpaper.

«You think so, uh.» I tried to say something else, something even vaguely intelligent, but nothing came to mind.

Ishtar’s smile turned as keen as a blade, and a fragment of my mind, one that wasn’t currently drowning in the maelstrom of heath and need twirling in my brain, was surprised by how easily her sharpness came across, even through the miles between us and despite the shitty quality of our Skype connection.

«Yes. I think you should move your laptop to the bed, push your panties aside and finger yourself. Right now.» Her voice was down to a purr now, low and liquid, as dangerous as poison. «Tell us how tight you are. How wet you are. And we’ll tell you what we’d do to you, if we were right there with you.»

The air had grown hot, stifling and impossible to breathe. I tore my eyes from Ishtar’s face, fixed and unyielding, and I finally saw Kylo’s expression–he’d kept his head bent down, trying to hide behind a loose lock of black hair, but his cheeks were stained of such a deep red that it was impossible to miss. The artificial brightness of his monitor shone on the little frown marring his forehead, underlining the ridges and hollows of his long face and the self-conscious grimace pushing down his lips. The Adam’s apple bobbing wildly up and down his throat caught my gaze for a moment, before his sheer agonizing embarrassment finally snapped me out of my reverie.

I shook my head, absurd fondness ringing in my low chuckle. We were such a mismatched trio–it should’ve been impossible for us to fit together at all, let alone that well. But maybe that was exactly _why_ we fit together, in some crazy way.

«Not tonight, Ishtar» I repeated, trying hard not to laugh at her offended expression. «We’re all tired. We should try to get some sleep.»

«Yes, mom - Ishtar scoffed back, rolling her eyes - I just miss you. I miss the way your bodies feel, the way your skin tastes.» She whipped out a cheeky grin, as she added: «Especially between your thighs.»

I snickered at that, just as Kylo, that was finally on his way to raise his head once again, went back to stare at his desk. I didn’t expect to hear his voice, even if down to barely a whisper.

«I miss you, too.»

The smirk still plastered over my lips softened to a smile, as Ishtar gifted us with her most self-satisfied grin.

«Of course you do» she purred, as Kylo dipped his head again. He looked up then, from under his long, dark lashes, and I realized that that was my cue.

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know my own feelings, and I didn’t know any name with which I could call them, even if I could understand them. Everything seemed as elusive as a dream, and I was floating, like Alice down the Rabbit hole, incapable of pinpointing which way was up and which way was down anymore. My flat was exactly how I’d left it, everything in its place, but it felt as though it was someone else’s space, someone else’s life. As though my old self was the dream, and I’d just woken up.

But Kylo and Ishtar looked just as inconsistent -disembodied faces floating on a screen- and I didn’t know what was real anymore. I didn’t know who I was anymore. And I had no words to explain that to them.

«It’s strange to be home» I simply said, hoping to convey every feeling I couldn’t name with it, but I had no idea what my eyes let shine through.

 

* * *

 

 

Slipping back into my life felt just as slipping back into a pair of old shoes–something I’d worn for so long that time had weathered the edges, and now rested so comfortably against my core that it fit like a second skin. It’d taken me years to reach that kind of perfection, and even if the process hadn’t been entirely deliberate, I couldn’t deny the quality of the results. I’d created for myself the kind of environment that best suited my personality, a place where I could be as alone as I needed to be, isolated from people I couldn’t feel nor understand–and, more than everything, where my life could unfold in a string of unremarkable days, well organized and with very little to shake that carefully carved routine.

Truth was–I was a creature of habits. I liked to know that each day would be identical to the day before, and that the day after would be just as predictable. I didn’t like surprises, just as I didn’t like when capricious events rattled my cage. I liked my life exactly the way it was–something old, something easy, and something hushed.

But the quiet course of my existence had been cracked open while I wasn’t looking, and I’d been hilariously naïve, in retrospective, to think that I could’ve accommodated anyone at all in that tiny lonely shell without busting it open at the seams–let alone someone like Kylo and Ishtar. And as the days tottered by, while I struggled to keep them rolling on the same old tracks, I began to see the cracks in what I considered my organized little life–I began to see the wearing, and the hair-thin fissures running through the walls.

Being back home, amongst my stuff, had helped to put things in perspective, at least to a point. I resumed my normal routine, waking up early in the morning and going to sleep at a reasonable time in the evening, filling up each slot of my day with its allotted task–preparing breakfast, working at my laptop, having some lunch, doing some cleaning, working again until late afternoon, having some dinner and then playing or watching TV until it was time to go to bed. When the fridge was truly empty, I would go out to buy whatever was needed, but more often than not I would carry on ordering some food from the local take-away for a few days, before begrudgingly poking my head out of the door.

What I hadn’t expected, and proved to be subtly destabilizing, was that now there was actually someone in the world that wanted to talk to me, and even more strangely, that I wanted to talk to as well. Someone that led a life utterly unlike my own, with different schedules and from different time-zones, and it was strange how such a little, obvious thing would hit me so deeply. Those days spent at the convention were still brighter than anything else that had happened before or after, but, for some reason, receiving a text at three o’clock in the afternoon about five days later felt thoroughly outlandish.

**_Are you online? Can I call you?_ **

I had to re-read the text twice to make sense of it. It was from Kylo, of course -Ishtar wouldn’t be back home for at least another half hour- but his schedule was so puzzling that I hadn’t really expected him to show up until much later in the evening. While the group chat we’d opened with Ishtar was already so clogged with messages that Android was reminding me of the possibility of dumping some of them in the offered online storage, that was the first and only text Kylo had ever written to me in private.

I blinked. Those were the hours I normally allotted to my work, but Kylo would always try to make some time for us, even if he seemed to spend most of it out of the house, and I was typing a reply even before taking a conscious decision.

**_I’m logging in._ **

Barely a minute later, Kylo’s face was taking up my entire screen. He was clad in a bright yellow t-shirt I’d never seen before -I hadn’t even known he owned anything that wasn’t black or dark grey, let alone yellow-, with a red logo sewn over his breast. A yellow hat was covering his short black hair, and his dark eyes flitted quickly all over my face before staring down at the desk. His room was as dark as usual, despite being barely midday over there, but I was getting used to it. Perhaps the light disturbed him, when he used the computer.

There was a strange tightness spread all over his face. It was easy to spot, even before Kylo started to gnaw nervously at his plump lips, sucking them between his slightly crooked teeth. There was something glowing softly somewhere close by, this time–a lamp, it looked like, that bathed his face in some yellowish light.

«Hey. Hi» he mumbled, looking away from the camera. «Sorry if I’m bothering you. I wanted… I wanted to see you. Hear you. ‘tar is busy, and… I mean, not that you _aren’t_ , but I thought–I thought…»

«It’s alright - I replied, keeping my voice low and gentle - I’m… I’m glad you called me.» He looked so rattled that I could feel _something_ tugging at my chest, but I didn’t know how to call it, and I wasn’t too sure about what it was either. It was deep, though, and entwined with the odd need to reach through the screen of my laptop and stroke away the tense lines marring his face. «Is something wrong?»

The stupid hat, so incongruous on him, made his ears look even bigger. There was a capital M printed in red right on the forehead.

Kylo cocked his head slightly, apparently focused on the little patch of wood on his desk that he was currently scratching at with one of his nails. The yellow t-shirt was stretched tight across his wide shoulders, but was hanging somewhat looser on his lean chest.

«Just… not a very nice shift. I mean, this morning. Just got home, and… Han’s here, but I don’t want to talk to him. My mom’s at work, but even if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t understand. No one gets it.»

The unhappy frown on his face deepened, as the brim of his yellow hat covered his eyes from view. I still had no idea who that Han was–apparently someone hanging around Kylo’s house, possibly somebody who had some kind of relationship with his mother, but Kylo had barely mentioned him once and not cared to elaborate, and I didn’t want to probe.

I hadn’t a clue about what to do now. I couldn’t remember the last time I had to comfort anyone, or at least anyone I cared about. The thought stirred the muddy ground of my memories, but I pushed down the ones about my uncle before they could resurface. I didn’t want to remember. Those days were dead and buried–there was no point in bringing them back to life.

«What happened?» I asked instead, trying to focus on the boy shifting uneasily on the other side of the screen. It was so strange–I had his cock in my mouth, but I still couldn’t think of him as nothing but a _boy_. There was something just too vulnerable in him, something almost childish. Something I was senselessly fond of.

«Nothing, really» Kylo sighed, shaking his head slightly. «Niran was being an asshole again. I would make a burger without salad, and he would tell me that he’d called for one with extra salad. I would go to the toilet for one second, and I would find my knife moved, my tongs disappeared. Niran was supposed to help me unload the track this morning, but he complained that there were too many people in the shop for him to leave the till, so I had to do it alone. Half an hour of extra work no one will pay for. And I can’t say anything, because it’s just so… _petty_ , I would sound like a moron if I spoke to the manager about it.»

He groaned, lowering his face on the forearms he’d crossed over the desk. The brim of his hat hit the monitor with a loud thud, making his face and the entire room behind him wobble, so Kylo tore it off his head and threw it furiously away with an exasperated  growl.

«Do you have many shifts with this… person?» I asked, desperately trying to find something more intelligent to say. I was so hopelessly out of my depth that it was ridiculous. I couldn’t even tap into some personal experience to help him through–the only time I’d had to work with other people not only was from a period I didn’t want to think about, but controlling my feelings had never been the problem. It’d always been the opposite.

_Do you even feel anything at all?_

I scrubbed away the memory like I would with a stain. I didn’t want to hear my foster sister’s voice, not even in my mind.

Kylo scoffed, an angry, almost viciously amused sound. He ran a hand through his black hair, mussing up the locks that the hat had clumped together.

«Only every fucking shift I have over there. I don’t know what the fuck is his problem. He _always_ does that, he _always_ behaves like a jerk. I have no idea why. I’ve never done anything to him. But I guess it doesn’t matter, does it?» He stood up, hiding his face, as the camera locked onto his torso–miles and miles of it, covered by that ugly yellow t-shirt. The cheap cotton clung to his narrow hips, underlining the rim of his jeans, the buckle of his belt. « _I_ am the problem. Always have. Assholes would just look at me and think, _I don’t like this guy, let’s have a go at him_. And it doesn’t matter how big I get–assholes always find me. Maybe I should just take a swing at him. But then I’d lose the job, and mom would be disappointed, and Han would feel justified all over again. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction.»

There was such a deep, hopeless dejection in his voice that it killed whatever nonsense I was about to say. It was even stronger than the raging fury interlaced with his words.

It struck me, then, how little I understood of his misery, and how strange whatever we had truly was–knowing so much and so little of each other at the same time. I could’ve picked up the scent of their skin amongst thousands, and I could’ve drawn their bodies by memory alone, but I didn’t know what made them tick, and how they thought beyond the scraps and slivers I’d seen in those two scant days we spent together. I knew how shyly Kylo would bend his head if I reached out for his cheek, but I had no understanding of the person that was raging in front of me.

«This is _not_ how it was supposed to go» Kylo went on, without waiting for my reply, and as he moved away from the monitor I saw his face again. He began to pace up and down his room, the sharp profile of his face and his big ears emphasized by the short black hair. «This was _not_ supposed to be my life. I was supposed to go through college, get a nice job, be… I don’t know. Be happy, I guess. I have no idea if _that_ would qualify as _happy_ , and now I’ll never know, will I? I’m going to be stuck here forever, with my shitty jobs, trying to pay off a fucking endless string of bills for a stupid college that I’ve never even managed to finish. A failure through and through.»

It was too much. What could I say to that?

I didn’t have anything that could help, anything at all. I was too damaged even to _feel_. I could sense his despair like electricity in the air, I could taste it like acid on the tip of my tongue, but I was numb to it, caught between the need to reach through the screen and just _touch_ him and the frozen motionless of a blinded deer. The fierce protectiveness that had thrummed inside of me as I held him was still there, but it felt strangely muted, secluded, so far-off inside my mind that it chimed like a cascade of echoes.

I had to try, though. I owned him at least that.

«Kylo…» I started, but my voice seemed enough to break the spell.

Kylo whipped his head towards the monitor, staring at me with the wide eyes of a wild thing, caught in a bear-trap and ready to bite its leg off if it meant escape. His hands had wreaked havoc on his black hair, and his mouth was hanging half-open in blatant surprise, as though he’d completely forgotten about his audience. As though he’d repeated the same speech to himself so often that he’d slipped back to a moment in which he was alone, and venting his simmering fury to himself.

His voice, when he finally found it again, was biting.

«Forget it» he snapped, running a hand through his tousled hair once more. His dark eyes were stubbornly trained on the floor, and there was a deep frown cutting his forehead in half. «It was… it was stupid. Forget all of it.»

Was that what he really wanted? For me to forget?

Was that what he really needed?

But then again, what else could I do for him? If I could do nothing to help him, maybe forgetting that outburst was just about the only courtesy I could give him.

_I am too broken for this._

My uncle would’ve done much better. _Rey_ would’ve done much better.

I thought that maybe Kevan had been a mistake, that maybe I wouldn’t be that hopeless with somebody else–but maybe Kevan had never been the problem, after all. It’d always been me. I’d done well to stay alone for all those years.

One thing I knew–I didn’t want to lie to Kylo, no matter how white a lie that would be. I didn’t know if _everything would be alright_ , or if _for every problem there was a solution_. I didn’t know if _he would always have us_ , because I wasn’t sure there was a me to have. I was just as lost as he was, and just as alone. Ishtar wasn’t there to guide me. I had no idea if she would have any answers, either.

But one thing I knew.

«I’m sorry, Kylo» I whispered. Useless and trite, but the truth–the old honest truth. The best I could give. «I am so, so sorry you are suffering.»

Kylo stilled at that, and stared at me for a long, quiet moment. Then he shrugged, as though my words held no meaning whatsoever.

«I still have the stink of those fryers on me - he said, cold and strangely subdued - I need a shower.» He stalked back to the monitor, bending down to grab the mouse. He was gnawing on his bottom lip, as he avoided my eyes. «I’ll see you later.»

The call was discontinued before I could say anything else. I was left alone, in my tiny flat, staring at a silent screen as I was still searching for words that I didn’t know even where to begin looking for.

That was how Ishtar found me, half an hour later, and as I tried to show a modicum of enthusiasm for the interview she’d had that morning, I slowly came to realize that she was seeing nothing wrong with me. That I was, for all intent and purposes, just the same as I’d always been.

When Kylo popped back online, two hours later, his hair was wet and his face pinched, but he didn’t  say a word about whatever was troubling him. He tried to smile, like nothing happened, and so did I.

 


	2. Part II

It wouldn’t take us long to discover what Ishtar had meant, by _doing her own thing_.

Not three days had passed, since our return, that Ishtar had popped up online with the great news that she’d had a Serious Talk with her father, in which she’d proudly told him that she’d learnt from him everything there was to learn about his business, and since he was going to be around for a very long time yet, she would prefer to spend that time doing something she loved, rather than shadowing him as she’d done since she was twelve years old.

What she loved turned out to be fashion. Ishtar would not just buy the most expensive and on-demand stuff she found on the market, but she would also design and sew her own clothes, which was exactly what she meant to do with her life. After that little chat with her father, interviewers had began to pop up from seemingly nowhere, offering her traineeship after traineeship at one atelier or the other, until Ishtar finally settled for _Maison Mandalore_.

She announced us the happy news one stiflingly hot Saturday afternoon at the end of August, about two weeks after we’d come back from the convention. She’d initiated the call as I was farming, so I let my character idle in the background, as the Skype window popped up and Ishtar’s happy face filled my screen.

«Ni, Ni, I’ve got big news to tell you!» she exclaimed, lips stretched wide in a huge smile. «Where’s Kylo? Wasn’t he supposed to be home by now?»

I shrugged, as I gingerly stretched my back away from the hard wooden chair. I always meant to buy a more comfortable one, since I spent most of my time at the desk, but the sweltering heat of Starloftian summers stole considerable appeal from either padded or leather-bound rolling chairs. The padding would make the humidity, hanging everywhere like a curtain, almost intolerable, and the leather would stick horribly to my sweaty skin. A wooden chair was the best solution for that kind of weather, and I could just throw a cushion on it if my ass really cried for mercy.

«He said he would be» I replied, somewhat warily. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Kylo had forgot a promise, or showed up late, but I could sympathize–he seemed to struggle to fit us in his old routine as much as I did.

With a pout, Ishtar propped carefully her laptop on the coffee table, before slouching over her cream-white couch.

«I want you both to be here when I make my announcement» she protested, as she idly began to unwind her plated hair. She was wearing pressed black pants and a billowy white shirt, held close to her chest by a sleeveless black waistcoat. Interview clothes. Her makeup was down to a minimum, but perfectly done, with a pinkish hue underlying her black doe-eyes.

«Have you finally found a place?» I asked, smiling a little at her bubbling enthusiasm. It was so odd–of the three of us, Ishtar seemed to be the only one stubbornly sticking to her own self. I would struggle to recognise the boy I’d kissed in that Kylo, sometimes, or I would fight to keep myself close instead of drifting away, but every time Ishtar popped up, she was almost exactly as I remembered her. Or close enough not to make a difference.

Ishtar grumbled under her breath, as she attacked another of her little braids. They were hanging all around her head, surrounding the small bun on her nape that was keeping the rest of her flowing white hair in place.

«You’re spoiling the surprise.»

I shrugged again.

«It wasn’t exactly difficult to guess.» I squirmed a little, trying to get the cool air gushing from my rickety AC system in the sweaty hollows beneath my thighs, which had been pressed against the hard wood of the chair for too long. I was wearing a loose lilac tank-top and the flimsiest shorts I owned, so old and worn that the once bright blue had faded into an almost-grey, but the heath was unforgiving. «I would’ve thought it was going to be more difficult to find a job in fashion, though. Even an unpaid one.»

It was Ishtar’s turn to shrug.

«Galactic City is _littered_ with ateliers - she replied, as she studiously concentrated on a particularly obstinate plait - I was bound to find a place, at some point.»

«I see.» I smiled at her, an honest smile, and it was strange and a little sad how relieved I was at that–at being still able to feel something, _anything_ , for them. «I’m happy for you.»

Ishtar smiled back in kind, hands still busy with her plated hair.

«Thanks. I’ve always wanted to do this, and… I don’t know. I’ve always felt as though I needed to stay close to my father, but I’m not a child anymore. I need to have my own experiences.»

I felt a pang, somewhere in there, a pang that I stubbornly refused to acknowledge. I knew all about betrayals, after all–at least according to my foster sister.

«It can’t be really love, if they only wish to keep you chained to them» I heard myself say, as though from a great distance. «There can be no loyalty, if they keep you collared and leashed like a misbehaving dog.»

I blinked, as I realised only too late what had been coming out of my mouth. Ishtar’s gaze was sharp now, and she was studying me with piercing eyes.

«My father is nothing like that» she said slowly. Her hands were still playing with her hair, deceptively idle. «He doesn’t want to keep me chained. He was happy to help.»

«Of course. I didn’t mean to say he wasn’t - I replied, too quickly, much too quickly - I wasn’t talking about anyone in particular. Just… broad strokes.»

«I see.»

Ishtar was still staring at me, eyes fixed and intent like those of a coiled cobra, when the chiming of Kylo logging in broke the spell.

«Kylo’s here» I said, trying not to rush as I added him to our conversation. His tired face popped up a second later, as usually drown in absolute darkness. There were bluish bags under his eyes, and his mouth was bent in an unhappy pout. He’d never mentioned either of his jobs again, but it was plain to see how little he liked them.

«Hey» he greeted us. He was hunched over his desk, one elbow solidly planted on the hard wood while his fisted hand propped up his chin. «Sorry, I’m late. What’s the great news?»

«I got a place!» Ishtar declared, our awkward moment apparently forgotten in her excitement. Relief washed over me, as I breathed more easily. There were things I wasn’t ready to share, with them or with anyone else–things I just wanted to forget. «A one-year-long traineeship at _Maison Mandalore_. I’m starting on Monday.»

«That’s fantastic!» Kylo exclaimed, a more genuine smile taking the place of the stiff grimace he’d welcomed us with. «They’ll let you put together your own stuff, then?»

«They’ll let me _stitch_ my own _clothes_ , yes - Ishtar chided him, with an amused smirk to lessen the sting - Though I’ll start with watching and learning, I guess.» She shrugged. «It’s not like I didn’t already sew clothes during my time off, after all.»

«Of course - I interjected, since being corrected had brought a sullen pout to Kylo’s lips - You did say something about bringing a portfolio to the interviews.»

«Yes, to show off some of my best creations» Ishtar replied happily, brushing off Kylo’s sulking as though she was used to it. «I promised I’d show you something too, didn’t I?»

«You did» I agreed, swiping off a stray lock from my forehead, matted with sweat, and pushing it back in the loose bun I’d tied my tangled blond hair in. I was honestly curious about Ishtar’s creations, and the thought surprised me–interest was not something I readily associated with other people, and as little a thing as that was, it made me realise how, slowly but steadily, I was being dragged into their lives.

Maybe there was still hope for me, after all.

«Here, just a second» Ishtar mumbled, as she jumped off the couch and came back with a huge ugly bag. It was clearly too much high-end for my vulgar tastes.

Kylo was still pouting in his corner, but he was tragically incapable of hiding his feelings, and his begrudging interest was easy to spot as Ishtar took a leather-bound black folder out of her bag. An elegant silver engraving was embossed on the front, but our Skype connection was too shitty for me to read it.

«Let me see…» Ishtar mumbled, as she ruffled through a few huge pictures–proper pictures, printed on proper photo paper, as I hadn’t seen in years. «Oh, yes, this! - she exclaimed, before turning the picture towards the camera until it filled the entire screen - This is Phasma, do you remember her? From the convention? She models for me, sometimes. I love dressing her. She’s so _tall_ , and she looks good in pretty much anything I throw on her.»

It took me a second to recognize the woman from the picture -I had a terrible memory for faces, and two weeks were a very long time for me-, but eventually I managed to reconcile that pale beauty, carefully decked in a flowing white dress, with the tall Stormtrooper that had been towering over me, Ishtar, even _Kylo_ , at the convention. The woman -Phasma, I tried to remember- was wearing something full of silver sequins, sleeveless, and strapped only over one shoulder. Silver shoes were peeking from under the hem, and her make-up was very light, but impeccable.

As the silent stretched on, I realised that Ishtar was waiting for some sort of feedback. I glanced at Kylo, as I tried and failed to come up with an opinion - _any_ opinion would do, since I had neither understanding nor interest for fashion-, but Kylo was utterly useless. He was staring at the picture as though Phasma had somehow personally offended him, with a deep frown etched between his brows.

«It’s… sparkly - I offered, when it became clear that no help was coming from that front - Very white and very… sparkly.»

That was enough to make the picture disappear. Ishtar’s face took its place, with pale eyebrows lifted so high they almost touched her hairline.

«Sparkly? Really?»

«I like the silver?» I tried again, with my most placating expression. Kylo did nothing to conceal what he thought of that poor remark -his disdainful snort reverberating loud and clear throughout the line-, so I arched a brow and asked if he had have anything better to say.

« _Clothes_ are not my things» he declared grandly, as though _clothes_ were too far beneath the great Kylo Ren for him to concern himself with them.

«Unless they’re made of twenty layers of black over black» I huffed back, rolling my eyes. Kylo had the nerve to look outraged at my remark.

«That was my _uniform_! I’m a Knight of Ren!»

I snorted at that, and deliberately switched my gaze to Ishtar’s amused face as Kylo glowered at me from his half of the screen, gnawing sullenly on his lower lip.

«Maybe the next one?» Ishtar snickered, taking another picture from the folder. It was easier, this time, to recognise the model as Phasma–her height was difficult to mistake, even if Ishtar had covered her face with a lacy black net, dropping from a little black band woven into her short blond hair. The dress was black as well, with a white snowflake pattern embossed on the thick cloth from neck to mid-thigh. The rest of the skirt seemed to be made of some sort of black fur, shorter at the front and longer at the back. High-heeled black stiletto shoes completed the picture, as though that gigantic woman really needed the extra inches.

«Is that fur?» I asked, aiming for something at least seemingly intelligent, this time.

Ishtar’s black eyes peeked out the top of the picture, and there was a smile in their corners as she peered at me.

«Yes - she replied - Fake fur, of course. Black is a difficult colour to find, and I didn’t really want to skin a panther for that dress.»

I chuckled at her quip, quirking my head. There was a strange tinge to her voice–as though it was the panther the actual issue, not the fact that it was probably illegal.

«I like it. The snowflake pattern is very beautiful.»

«Do you only have pictures of Phasma in there?» Kylo grumbled, dark eyes darting unhappily from me to Ishtar. He was very obviously peeved, but I had no idea why–maybe because I’d dared to besmirch the sacred robe of the Order of the Knight of Ren. Who knew.

There was a dangerous glint in Ishtar’s black eyes, as she tilted her head slightly–something that made me reflexively stiffen. I might not have understood them very well, but I knew that look. Intimately. And it made the short hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end.

«Of course not» Ishtar purred, poisoned honey dripping from her voice, as her lovely lips quirked up into a dangerous smirk. «Sometimes Hux models for me, too.»

I barely restrained myself from slamming a hand over my face, as Kylo bristled like a rabid dog. The subject of Hux had been barely touched during the last two weeks, but something was clear–Kylo didn’t like him, and he liked even less that Hux used to be Ishtar’s boyfriend. He was so obviously jealous that it was almost painful to watch. Ishtar seemed to love poking him with it, like she would with a stick and a caged lion.

« _Hux_?» Kylo growled, deep in his throat, plump lips drawn back to bare uneven white teeth.

I rolled my eyes again, as Ishtar snickered, low and liquid.

«Well, yes. I have other friends I can ask to, but Hux looks _amazing_ in a suit.»

And that was her little revenge for the disdainful tone Kylo had used to talk about her craft.

 _I’m dealing with a bunch of children_ , I thought, not for the first time.

« _Amazing_?» Kylo scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and stretching back, trying to look as unbothered as humanly possible, with that look of betrayed indignation painted all over his long face. He was staring at the ceiling, with his brows furrowed and his mouth curled into some pissed-off grimace that he probably thought looked like an uncaring, snooty sneer. «I could break him in half just by _looking_ at him.»

Ishtar snickered, and I sighed under my breath.

«Yes, he’s thin, but that’s the _point_ –I use him as a model because he looks like one. Perfect bone structure.»

«Right - Kylo grumbled, levelling a quick, angry glare at her - If you like the type.»

«Please, _everyone_ likes the type! - Ishtar scoffed, rolling her eyes - I have impeccable taste, thank you very much.»

«Not everyone!» Kylo snarled back, looking savagely around for something, anything to throw back at her–until, unfortunately, his eyes found _me_. «Ni doesn’t! - he declared, with a victorious note in his tone - Isn’t that true, Ni?»

Ishtar’s perfect eyebrows were once again brushing her hairline, as the both of them stared expectantly at me.

_Children._

«Are the two of you _seriously_ asking me if I’m attracted to Hux?» I asked, with a quirked eyebrow. «I barely remember his face.»

«Don’t worry, I’ve got a picture right here!» Ishtar helpfully supplied, as she ruffled through her portfolio and slapped a picture of Hux against the camera. He was dressed in a tasteful dark-blue three-piece suit, ginger hair slated back to better frame his sharp cheekbones.

He was good-looking, I guessed, like a model on the glossy page of a magazine–and, just as that, he felt utterly empty to me. He barely looked real.

«I can’t say he’s _ugly_ \- I replied carefully, gaining a triumphant snicker from Ishtar and a betrayed grunt from Kylo - But he doesn’t really tell me anything.»

«What’s he supposed to tell you? - Ishtar grumbled, eyes peeking out from above the picture - _Here’s my cock, be a good girl and kneel_?»

I rolled my eyes at her snapping remark, but my deep sigh was drowned by Kylo’s rumbling, savage snarl. Ishtar had a talent for vivid description, and Kylo clearly wasn’t in a particularly appreciative mood. He looked ready to pick up his monitor and throw it against the wall, eyes wide and wild, hands fisted so tight that the biceps were bulging under the short sleeves of his t-shirt.

«We are not having this conversation» I declared, with a tone that I hoped offered no space for protest.

I’d obviously underestimated Ishtar.

«I didn’t ask you to go and _fuck_ him - she complained, utterly ignoring Kylo’s rumbling growl - I just wanted to know if you _would_!»

«For the love of–You are _not_ asking me if I’d fuck your ex-boyfriend!» I sputtered, eyeing with some worry Kylo’s teeth, gritted so tight they looked about to burst from his mouth.

«Why not? - Ishtar complained, seemingly exasperated at our pointless attempts of making a gigantic senseless drama out of such a little ridiculous thing - It’s just a question, you don’t _have_ to.»

«I don’t even know him!»

«What does _that_ have to do with it?» Ishtar replied, with a sharp smirk. «You didn’t know us either.»

I blinked, taken aback. Ishtar had moved Hux’s picture away from the camera, at least, but that meant being stared at by those black eyes in all their pitiless glory.

«That was… different» I replied, and in that moment I _knew_ –I was telling them the honest truth. It’d had nothing to do with knowing them or not. I’d gone with them because it’d been _them_.

There was something close to real curiosity, now, in Ishtar’s eyes.

«Why?»

I shook my head. Kylo had stopped growling, at some point, and was now staring at me with narrowed eyes.

«I don’t know - I replied, with a frown - But it was.»

Ishtar’s smirk softened, and her eyes were warm as they roamed over my face.

«Aw, Ni. That was almost romantic.»

«Almost» I repeated, trying to hide my confusion with a laugh.

«Almost» Ishtar confirmed, with a twinkle in her eyes. «But if not Hux, _someone_ will have to fuck you. Don’t you think, Kylo?»

And, just as quickly, Ishtar had thrown us again in deep water. I could see the sharks under the waves, as I struggled to stay afloat.

Kylo looked just as taken aback as I felt, at that last brutal bend of the road. He blinked, big brown eyes shifting from me to Ishtar, plump lips slightly ajar and the beginning of a frown burrowing between his thick brows.

«What–What do you mean?» he asked, when no explanation came forward.

Ishtar propped her pointed chin on her tapered hand, staring back at the camera with a lazy smirk plastered over her delicate lips.

«It’s been two weeks, now - she sighed, rolling her shoulders - I tried to drop some hints here and there, but I think I’ve been too subtle.» She hadn’t been subtle at all–Kylo had just been so painfully embarrassed at every filthy allusion that pretending nothing happened had felt like the most merciful option. «I have seen neither dick nor tits since the convention, and I’m pretty sure that’s not how relationships are supposed to work.» Ishtar ran her tongue over her lips then, slowly, like a tiger prowling in the jungle, licking expectantly at its chops. «So. I don’t care which one of you goes first, but somebody is going to show me _something_. Up you go, and drop your pants. Chop chop.»

I wasn’t exactly surprised at her stern declaration. I’d been expecting something along those lines for quite some time now, and there was already a laugh bubbling on my lips–but the laugh died in my throat, as I took in Kylo’s face. He was beyond embarrassed–he’d gone from lobster-red to ashen-white in the split of a second, staring at the screen with such huge, terrified eyes that I felt my heart squeeze painfully in my chest.

But before I could say anything -before I could tell him that it was okay, he didn’t need to take Ishtar _that_ seriously-, Kylo jumped up on his feet, fumbling for the mouse.

«I-It’s late - he stammered, breath so quick he was almost hyperventilating - I-I need to go.»

And with that, his side went dark, before disappearing completely as Ishtar took up my entire screen.

«I should’ve guessed that much. He never sent me that dick pic, after all - she sighed, slouching back on the couch in an elegant sprawl - But we’re using Skype, now. We’re looking at each other _faces_. What’s the point of hiding some dick? A dick we’ve already _seen_ , at that.» She lifted her hand, as though she could express the entirety of her puzzlement with a little wave of her fingers. «I thought that after the convention he would be less… I don’t know. Difficult?»

«You clearly thought wrong» I replied, with a quirked brow. «Maybe… a less direct approach, next time?»

«Why don’t you try, next time?» Ishtar grumbled, lips curled down in a pout so similar to Kylo’s that for a moment all I could do was swallow a laughter.

«I can survive even if he keeps it in his pants, you know» I snickered back, earning an impatient sweep of her hand for my troubles.

«Of course, you went on for _ten years_ without seeing a dick! Ten years! I’m not sure I can survive another ten days!»

«You’re being over-dramatic.»

«I’m being _under_ -dramatic, if anything» Ishtar sniffled, draping herself over the couch in a boneless, prostrated sprawl, face dramatically covered by one of her arms. «I think I’m gonna die of dick-deprivation. You will give me a beautiful funeral and try to kill yourself over my casket.»

«A dick-shaped casket?»

«Ssh! Don’t interrupt me, it’s very rude!» she chided me, before carrying on. «You could’ve saved me, if you’d wanted. But you didn’t. You are so _cruel_.»

«And how am I supposed to save you?» I asked, with a snicker.

Ishtar’s black eyes peeked out of her outstretched arm.

«Some tits would help.»

I barked out a laugh, shoulders shaking and hands snapping to cover my face. As the wave of laughter subsided, I lowered my hands, finding Ishtar’s sharp face staring expectantly at me.

«No» I gasped, chuckling and at the same time trying to regain my breath. «I’m not going to take my clothes off for you.»

«But _why_? - Ishtar whined, throwing up her arms in utter exasperation - What does the whole lot of you have against happy, consensual sex? It’s not like I haven’t seen you both naked before! It’s not like I haven’t put my _mouth_ there before, for crying out loud!»

I felt a blush blossom all over my face, as the memory of Ishtar’s tongue fucking into me burned through my mind like a shooting star. I shook my head.

«That’s not the point» I replied, even if, deep down, I knew that that was the point, at least in part. «It wouldn’t feel… right, without Kylo.»

«You do know we’ve _fucked_ without Kylo, right?» Ishtar replied, eyes wide and disbelieving. «That time he dropped dead asleep we fucked _over_ him! Literally!»

«Oh, yes. He was so tired, poor thing. I didn’t want to move him.» I blinked back to present, as the memory of eating Ishtar out, as Kylo slept beautifully with his arms clutched around her shoulders, slowly subsided. Kylo had woken up with Ishtar’s nails digging into his side, as she was coming all over his legs with my head buried between her thighs. He’d looked as though he didn’t know whether to be more offended or turned on by the whole thing. «But this is not the same thing.»

«I give up - Ishtar declared, throwing herself back on the couch with a dramatic flourish - You people make no sense to me.»

It would take me some time to realise that Ishtar wasn’t being dramatic–that was the honest truth. But right then and there, I laughed, loud and strangely happy, as the conversation switched to less charged topics, and when Kylo came back online, hours later, I giggled under my breath as Ishtar dropped another little hint–and Kylo pretended not to hear.

 

* * *

 

 

The week after, Kylo disappeared for almost five days.

There had been no warnings, no particular reasons–he just didn’t show up when he was supposed to, his Skype profile dead and silent as the hours ticked by.

It was nothing new, and I’d already reached the conclusion, by then, that Kylo wasn’t exactly the most reliable person on Earth. I was perfectly aware that my experience with people was nothing short of spotty, but it was a kind of behaviour I wasn’t used to, strange and puzzling at best, and vaguely irritating at worst. It rubbed me all wrong, butting heads with both what I’d been taught as a child and the type of life I’d constructed for myself.

Despite his faults, my uncle was one of the most dependable people I’d ever met. There had been a time, when I was too little to understand, where I thought that Luke Skywalker was everything I would’ve ever wanted to be. I would try to behave like him, talk like him, _think_ like him–I would cut my blond hair short, just like he did, and I would dress as he dressed and read the book he read. He would always say that if you promise something, you have to go through with it, so I’d taken his words to heart, trying to be someone people could count on, trying to be as perfect as he was.

As I grew up, that kind of worship had slowly faded away, but whatever I might’ve come to think of him now, that little bit of his personality had stayed with me. I always tried to keep my promises, to apply myself to everything I did the best I knew how. Kevan was just like that–and maybe that was exactly why it had worked between us, up to a point, and stopped working after that. Kevan had reminded me of my uncle, with his sand-blond hair and his calm, gentle manners, reliable to a fault, and as fucked-up as it sounded, that was what had attracted me in the first place–and what had killed whatever little genuine feeling I could’ve harboured for him three years later.

I appreciated order, in my life. The best way to achieve that, was to be as dependable as I could, and to deal with equally dependable people. That little sliver of my uncle’s personality that I’d brought along, as I left his home, had served me well, since working -especially working at home and handling my own schedule- required to be consistent. What had started as a handed-down trait had become so ingrained in my own personality that I struggled to deal with unreliability. It was too alien a concept, just like messiness, or confusion.

The obvious downside, of course, was that it was difficult for me to bend. But then again, I’d never been particularly good at adapting, or my relationship with my uncle would’ve worked out much better.

By throwing both Kevan and my uncle out of my life, I’d reached a point where nothing could really shake the nicely arranged rhythm of my days. I’d never had the necessity to accommodate anyone that wasn’t myself, and I’d been fortunate enough so far to deal only with well-organized and professional clients–huge editors, mainly, even more interested than I was in timely results.

I’d never had to deal with mess, not really, but that had changed the moment I let two other people into my carefully constructed life, and I realized that not everyone was like Kevan and me–and perhaps that was exactly why I let them in. I was so tired of myself, so tired of my well-organized and dreadfully worn days. I was tired of being dead. If mess was what I needed, I would welcome mess.

I couldn’t really complain, then, if Kylo Ren was exactly that. He was rash, and impatient, constantly wound-up so tightly that he always seemed poised to explode, teetering on the edge of the precipice. What had been just little embers, barely a glimmer during the time we spent together, were now starting to catch fire. And it was becoming more and more difficult to see beyond the smoke.

But even if Kylo was forgetful, and unreliable, and utterly unrepentant about it, he’d always try to remember that we were part of his life now, that he _wanted_ us there. He wasn’t the only one struggling with the novelty of our situation. Our different schedules meant that we couldn’t always log in at the same time, but even if Kylo wasn’t always able to be there by the time Ishtar came back home, he’d try to carve some space in the morning to chat a little with me, or he’d show up late at night to spend some time with Ishtar. If he couldn’t show up at all, he would at least let us know he was still alive by sending a quick goodnight text on our WhatsApp group.

That was why I barely took notice, the first day of silence. Maybe he would show up later, I thought, or he would send us a message well after midnight. But the silence stretched on and on, and the days became two, three, and as his Skype profile remained stubbornly dead, an unsettling feeling began to settle, deep in my belly–a sort of dread, uneasy and restless and quietly consuming, like an overflowing river.

When I talked to Ishtar about it, she merely shrugged.

«Kylo does that - she replied, vague and distracted - Every now and then, he disappears for a while. He always comes back, eventually.»

 _Why?_ I wanted to ask. And, _how do you know he’s coming back, this time?_ But I bit my tongue, because it sounded somewhat childish in my mind, and I had no words to define whatever feeling was coming with it. Ishtar didn’t seem to read anything unusual in the deep lines cutting my forehead–she just showed me sketches of her latest creation -a cocktail dress- with the usual excitement that came attached to whatever she set her mind on doing. It was intended for Phasma, Ishtar explained, and she meant to gift it to her, after taking a staggering number of pictures to add to her portfolio. Kylo’s absence wasn’t brought up again, and I went to sleep with the needling hope that perhaps that would be the night–that, in a few hours, Kylo would finally log in, and I could see it in my Skype history the day after.

But Kylo didn’t show up, and another day rolled by.

By the fifth day, I realised one thing–that we were merely a blip on a computer in each other’s lives, and that if anything were to happen to one of us, the others would have no mean of knowing. We’d be left in a limbo, isolated, unable to reach out to the missing star of our constellation of three. Kylo could’ve been suffering, could’ve been in danger, could’ve been gone–and there we were, chatting our days away.

I could’ve talked to Ishtar about it. She was right there with me, she was supposed to understand. But I had a nagging, restless suspicion that she didn’t. She wouldn’t. I wondered, as she showed me a roll of velvety fabric that her father had bought her that morning, if she _couldn’t_ –and the answer, _I don’t know_ , was so profoundly unsettling that I pushed it away, burying it deep inside my mind.

As the hours crawled by, hot morning melting into a sweltering afternoon, I realised that I was getting exactly what I’d wanted–to _feel_. To know that I was alive, that I wasn’t lost and alone in a world that barely made sense. To know that I wasn’t dead, that I wasn’t carrying around a barren desert in my chest–to know that there was still something of myself, hidden beneath my skin, and that I wasn’t just pushing about my own corpse.

I was feeling, now–and it was messy, and tragic, and disconcerting, and I had no clue about what to do with it. I was worried, and I couldn’t sleep, and Kylo was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t logged in on Skype since the last time we spoke to him, and the same was true for his WhatsApp profile, even for his TFA account. If Ishtar were to disappear as well, I thought, I would go mad.

I could’ve called him, of course. I had his number. But not only the idea didn’t come to me until well into the fourth day of silent waiting -so little accustomed I was to have anyone in the universe I wanted to actually get a hold on-, I also immediately discharged it. Kylo didn’t want to talk to us, that much was clear. I would not force myself on him, if he’d rather have some time for himself. I’d never appreciated it, when the same had been done to me. And a secret part of my mind, confused and childish and very alone, feared the rejection.

It was a few hours later, as the afternoon was dwindling away, that Kylo finally showed up. After a less than productive day, I’d finally given up on the book I was currently editing, and I’d called Ishtar. The book was dreadfully boring and, to be honest, I’d longed to see Ishtar’s face, to hear her voice–I wanted to be reassured that, in a world without Kylo, I had Ishtar at least to hold on to.

I’d been so resigned to another day of useless waiting, by then, that it took me a moment to place the _ping_ and to understand the meaning of the Skype notification that had popped up on my desktop. Ishtar, who’d been blithely recalling her day at the atelier -and savagely making fun of one of her co-workers-, was much quicker on the catch up.

«Oh, Kylo’s here!» she exclaimed, loosing no time to call him in.

I didn’t know what to expect, when his face popped up on my desktop. My heart was thudding inside my chest, and it was absurd, and ludicrous, and I envied for a moment Ishtar’s perfect composure–Ishtar’s utter lack of concern. Because something I understood, and I understood very well–she was happy for him to be there, and perhaps she’d missed him when he was gone, but she’d never been worried, she’d never felt as deep as I did his absence. And if I were the one to disappear, she’d react just the same.

There was a dim, bottomless indifference in Ishtar’s very core–something that wasn’t neither malicious nor cold, just… careless. A deeply-rooted certainty that we’d be back, perhaps, that any other option was too inconceivable to be taken into consideration. An egotistic incapability of entertaining the thought that something could not go as she wanted, that she could not get what she needed. A selfish, spoiled princess, sprawled on her gilded throne.

Kylo’s face was exactly as I remembered–a little worse for wear, perhaps, with dark bruises staining the thin skin under his eyes and a thick veil of weariness settled over his features. He looked still alive, though, and healthy enough, and there was a part of me that wanted to be angry at that, wanted to be furious–and a part of me that was so relieved that I almost felt like crying. But the biggest part of me, the buried one, closest to the core, wanted to feel nothing at all. It was too much, and too alien, the unbearable load of those feelings–the unsettling need to shelter, to protect, to caress Kylo’s face and wipe away the dark shadows of exhaustion from his cheek, and smother the sparks of simmering anger that were sizzling in his eyes.

«You missed one of Hux’s rousing speeches, Kylo - Ishtar was cheerfully saying, as though nothing had happened, as though he hadn’t vanished for almost a week without a word - He’s planning another raid. You’d better follow orders this time, or I think he’ll get a stroke.»

Kylo tried to smile, a tired smile that did not reach his eyes. I stared at him in silence, feelings twisting and churning inside my chest without a pattern that I could see, without a meaning that I could understand. Kylo was steeped in darkness, as usual, and the brightness of his monitor was reflected in his shifting eyes.

We didn’t ask where he’d been, or why he’d gone. Kylo didn’t say a word on the matter, and we just let it go.

 


	3. Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some online-gaming nerding out, since they are supposed to be gamers! And Hux being Hux.  
> (Short chapter, but I'll make up for it with the next update, I swear.)

«Seriously, Ni. It _hurts_ looking at you. It’s physically _painful_.» I rolled my eyes, strong in the knowledge that for once Ishtar couldn’t see me–though I wouldn’t put it past her to simply _know_ what I was doing on the other side of the screen. «Can’t you at least dye that horrible half-cape in a less vomit-inducing shade of yellow?»

We were talking in teamspeak, so I couldn’t see her face either, but I had no problem picturing the long-suffering grimace that she was no doubt sporting right then and there. I could _hear_ her cringing.

I shrugged, as I led my character through the seedy underbelly of Coruscant’s vast ecumenopolis. _The Force Awakens_ ’ high-quality graphic was wasted on my laptop, but I hadn’t saved enough money yet to buy the plasma TV screen I wanted. The details of the cantina we were currently walking through, however, were so exquisite that I could spot tiny droplets trickling along the humid duracrete walls, and hear the soft buzzing of music and conversation under Kylo’s and Ishtar’s clear voices.

«The cape came with the gear - I explained, for at least the tenth time - I liked the standard Jedi getup better, but this one has an extra weapon slot for my new awakening plasma halberd. I needed the AP.»

It’d taken me ages to farm enough credits to buy the Kyber crystal I needed to power the halberd, since I refused to waste real money on an online game, but it’d been worth it. The long black handle shimmered like obsidian in the electric lights -the only source of brightness in the hidden lower levels of Coruscant-, and the sharp double head bore plasma blades, buzzing and sizzling of a blazing green sheen in the semi-darkness.

«Just because it _came_ in that disgusting shade, it doesn’t mean that it has to _stay_ that way» Ishtar scoffed, as her Knight wandered off to chat with one of the cantina’s questionable patrons. «That’s the beauty of MMOs, after all–customizing your gear. If whoever gave birth to such a horrid piece of clothing has no taste whatsoever, you don’t have to drag their shame around. Unless, for some masochistic reasons, you _want_ to.»

It was both absurd and ridiculously comforting how much Ishtar’s character physically resembled her. It was a small, delicate Knight of Ren–the careful product of hour after hour of patient customization. The Knight was swaddled in black robes, with silver woven into her black cape and silver trimmings trailing along her tight black boots. The black helmet she was equipped with, delicately carved in shiny silver lines to resemble a thicket of antlers, justified her in-game handle - _HornedConjurer_ \- together with the familiar penchant for dramatics that by now I automatically associated to Ishtar. A cascade of little white braids streamed from under the helmet, so bright they almost looked iridescent under Tattoine’s or Jakku’s dazzling sun.

Ishtar had smirked at my slightly puzzled expression, the first time our characters had met online. I’d taken for granted that Ishtar was nothing more than a moniker, but it’d turned out to be her actual name, strange as it was. Not that I had any ground to complain–Niahm wasn’t exactly the most ordinary of names, either. I still had no idea about Kylo.

I shrugged again, even if I knew that she couldn’t really see me.

«It doesn’t matter, taste has no impact on your character’s level.»

«It should - Ishtar grumbled back - It would save me a lot of pain.»

I chuckled, low and soft, but I had no doubt that Ishtar heard me anyway. My character, a non-descript blonde Jedi that I hadn’t wasted any time to customize beyond what was required during her creation, was idling in the background. She was dressed in a tight moss-green tunic and a sandy half-cape, and was tapping sporadically the butt of her plasma halberd against the dirty floor of the cantina. I disliked the outfit–it was garish, and entirely too showy for a Jedi. Under the short hem of her tunic, my character’s naked thighs tapered down in entirely too delicate calves, covered by dark brown boots. I knew that I was supposed to be a member of the New Jedi Order, founded after the annihilation of the Empire, but I couldn’t help thinking that the Jedi of the Galactic Republic, the main characters of the original TV series that had started the whole franchise, would’ve looked down on such display.

I smiled to myself, as Kylo’s character approached my Jedi. It was an absurdly imposing Knight, unsurprisingly clad in black from head to toe and hiding his features behind a wolfish helmet–the same helmet that Kylo had brought to the convention, revealing us proudly that he’d built it all by himself in the span of three long months. The final result had objectively been worth of his time, although I had my reservations about the voice changer he’d fit in the flat muzzle.

Kylo’s character was even taller than he was. The top of his masked head grazed the ceiling of the cramped cantina, and he was forced to bend to pass the doors. The black figure was big enough that it could’ve been mistaken for an alien, if the xenophobic First Order had allowed players to choose alien species for the Dark Side. My scantily-dressed Jedi looked ridiculously small and slender beside Kylo’s hulking Knight, and Ishtar’s tiny character was literally dwarfed by his sheer side.

We didn’t play together much, since the game was constructed with the obvious purpose to offer a diversified experience to its players, whether they chose the Republic or the First Order. That didn’t just mean different gears and different awakenings, which were unique anyway for each class on both sides, but also different built-in quests. They were equally distributed throughout multiple sectors, but non-player characters would reply differently whether they were interrogated by a Jedi, for example, or by a Knight of Ren. In addition to that, Force healing did not work across sides, and if a Knight or a Stormtrooper had a wide-area attack, it would wound any Jedi or Resistance pilot in the proximity, and vice versa. That meant that we mostly stuck to our guilds, although we would sometimes roam together idly throughout various sectors and complete parallel quests.

Kylo’s distaste for in-game quests was not exactly a secret, but since they were pretty much the only thing we could do together, he would begrudgingly stoop down enough to carry them out. Whenever we _did_ play together, though, Kylo’s character would behave just like he had in real life–his hulking shape constantly towering over my Jedi or Ishtar’s lithe Knight, following us around and generally keeping close enough to make _everyone_ know, player and non-player characters, that we were without a doubt with him. It was ridiculous, but oddly endearing, and a bittersweet reminder of those two days we’d spent together that were slipping further and further out of reach with every passing week.

Kylo’s behaviour had also solicited, more than once, the concerns of the odd Resistance fighter, who would approach me to ask if the sinister Knight of Ren looming all over my character was bothering me. Kylo seemed to have a knack for knowing whenever a Republic sympathizer was trying to meddle, instead of simply walking by, and his Knight had a very distinct way to settle just behind my back–most probably coupled, although Kylo never said, with a snappish private message suggesting the accidental Good Samaritan to run along and mind his own business. What I knew, was that no one ever answered to my polite but terse reply that everything was perfectly in order.

«What did he say about the quest?» Kylo asked, as Ishtar’s Knight moved away from the cantina’s patron. Her character stopped just in front of us, playing with a loose braid as she idled. Another vaguely unsettling similarity with her player, I thought, as the memory hit me low and deep–Ishtar running her fingers through the white mass of her wavy hair, as Kylo stroked idly the small of her naked back. His face was one of the things I remembered the most, especially the sort of spellbound awe that had seemed to stick to his expressive features during those days, as though we were the most wondrous things he’d ever seen in his entire life.

«We need to climb down another six levels and talk to the owner of a grocery store» Ishtar replied. «What about you, Ni?»

«Three levels down, there should be an informant in some alley.»

«Let’s go, then» Kylo urged us, though his character didn’t move an inch. He was waiting for us to lead the way, just as the real Kylo would do–Ishtar and I first, so he could watch our backs. Or, perhaps, make sure that he wouldn’t accidentally lose us.

I went ahead, walking out of the cantina and into a dark alley, barely brightened up by some pink neon blazing along the walls. The yellow shade of my cape took a sickly greyish tinge in that light.

 _Maybe Ishtar had a point after all_ , I vaguely thought, as we headed down.

Three hours later, my own quest had brought me two fragments of a violet Kyber crystal and a chip with some important information that I was supposed to deliver personally to the Resistance’s secret base. I would exchange or sell those fragments later on, since I liked my Kyber crystals green, but I had no particular inclination for bringing the quest straight to an end. It was a hot, lazy Saturday afternoon, hopefully one of the last of that sweltering summer that seemed to never end.

Since I didn’t work on Saturdays as a personal rule, I had nothing better to do, so I followed Ishtar and Kylo down the Coruscanti lower levels, trailing along as they worked through their own quests.

We were just about to move from Coruscant to the far-off Roon system, chasing after some Sith memorabilia, when a muted _ping_ ringed through our connection. No notification popped up on my screen, and the sound was too muffled to come from my laptop anyway–it was probably chiming from either Ishtar’s or Kylo’s sound system.

«Oh, Hux’s online! - Ishtar cheerfully informed us - And he’s on Coruscant! I’ll tell him where we are.» Kylo’s disgruntled grumble was impossible to miss, but Ishtar ignored him completely. «One second, he’s coming.»

«And what are we supposed to do with him, exactly?» Kylo muttered under his breath, voice strained and obviously unhappy. I could almost see him, his expressive face sporting that sullen pout that in our last month of Skype conversations had become worryingly familiar.

«Oh, Kylo, _lots_ and _lots_ of things, believe me, but sadly I don’t think you’d appreciate my ideas» Ishtar laughed, her character swiping pointedly away a corner of her shimmering black cape. Her answer held an edge that was unintentionally cruel, which made it even sharper. «We could start with saying hi, like polite people normally do.»

Kylo would not be swerved. There was steel in his voice, as he trudged stubbornly on.

«I don’t like the way he treats you - he declared, his character looming silently and shadowy over us - I don’t like the way he _talks_ to you.»

Snappish and scathing and curt, he meant, treaded sometimes with blatant exasperation–I’d seen that too. But what Kylo found most aggravating, I guessed, and utterly impossible to tolerate, was the absolute, unmistakable familiarity that ringed in every word that Hux spoke to Ishtar. There was something old, something intimate between them, that Kylo hated with the mindless elemental fury of a hurricane.

Ishtar’s microphone, held close to her mouth, turned her frustrated sigh into a deafening echo.

«I told you, it’s what we _do_ –we piss each other off. It’s like… like a game. We’ve been doing this since we were teenagers. It’s our thing.»

Reminding Kylo that Ishtar and Hux still had a _thing_ , whatever that thing was, didn’t seem like a sound strategy to me, but it wasn’t exactly my business, and the damage was already done.

The long silence that followed her words could’ve cut stone, like a diamond blade. There was sound in that silence, and weight, and words. I could hear the angry growl of open jealousy, sizzling in the foreground, but there was more to it, something wet and freezing and slowly spreading, like cold in a wintry night–a pervading, crippling sadness. I could feel the prickle of those simmering feelings like a needle through my skin, but I knew, I _knew_ that Ishtar was numb and blind to them.

«You don’t deserve to be treated that way - Kylo said, eventually, voice low and clear and filled to the brim with a desperate, devastating eagerness - You have us, now. You don’t need him anymore.»

I closed my eyes, as the staggering bulk of his need ricocheted through me like an earthquake–his need to protect, to please, but most of all, obvious and clear and immediate like the electric discharge of a lightening, his need to _belong_.

_I’m yours, and you are mine._

It was shouted so loud and so piercing that I didn’t know how Ishtar could be deaf to it. But she was, and I knew it, I knew it even as she hesitated–feeling it like a muted echo, perhaps, reverberating in the distance.

It was too late. Or maybe, as some sort of relief slithered in her voice, the timing was just perfect.

«Oh, Hux found us!» she exclaimed, a little too loud and a little too keen. «Just a second, I’m going to add him in.»

A soft ping, echoed by Kylo’s computer, heralded the joining of _General_H_ to our chat. Hux’s voice was just as crisp and taut as I remembered, even if I hadn’t talked to the man since those days at the convention.

«Hello» he said, a little warily, as his character approached us. He was wearing a little black hat over his ginger hair, and his black uniform was covered by a dark coat, as befitted a General of the First Order, with his rank neatly represented by silver stripes sewn on its forearms–the same military getup that Hux had been wearing at the convention. But just as Kylo’s character looked bigger and bulkier than he was, Hux’s character seemed stockier, somewhat more solid than the tall but slim man I’d met. His thick frame clashed sharply, in some indefinite way, with the subtle but persistent strain of Hux’s actual voice.

«Here you are!» Ishtar blithely piped up, just as Kylo, with a much less happy voice, gritted out:

«What do you want? Have you lost your way to your precious Starkiller Base?»

Hux’s jeering scoff ringed through the line, full of contempt.

«What happened? Did Supreme Darkness wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?» he sneered, smug and mocking.

«I’m just wondering how long it will take me to replenish my stock, after your next disastrous raid - Kylo bit back, voice dark and rumbling - I have other things to do, you know. I can’t spend most of my time making up for your failures.»

«If you did what you are told, once in a while, _we_ wouldn’t have to deal with _your_ disasters!» Hux snarled back, and I could almost see his face–the carefully constructed haughtiness of his expression, the control exercised so tightly that I could _feel_ the tension, like a tremor rippling over my skin.

If nothing else, Hux seemed pretty much as happy to have joined us as Kylo and I were.

«Please - Kylo scoffed - You were already doomed. You were dying like flies. It’s not my fault if I’m the only one in our entire guild sensible enough to try and cut his losses, instead of following an incompetent leader.»

I could feel undiluted anger simmering in Hux’s long, slightly shaking exhale.

«You arrogant child…»

«I haven’t been a child for a long time, General - Kylo replied, and there was the hint of a smirk in his voice now - I surely don’t look like one.»

«And yet, you behave like one. Have I come too late for one of your tantrums?» There was an edge to Hux’s voice, now, as sharp and keen as a blade. «Ishtar knows you well enough, but what about that dumb Jedi of yours?»

Hux’s character turned, just a fraction, and even if I knew that he was just idling -fussily fixing the hem of his sleeves the same way his player would-, for a moment it felt as though he was staring straight at me–as though _Hux_ was staring straight at me, across the miles and miles that stood between us and through the screen of my laptop.

Kylo growled at those words, low and menacing. The sound, amped up as it was by my sound system, seemed to reverberate in my tiny flat like a percussion, bouncing off the wall and vibrating in the stifling hot air.

«Leave them out of this» Kylo ordered, an obvious threat interlaced in his tone.

Hux scoffed.

«They are awfully silent - he observed, affecting a fake, jeering curiosity in his voice - I know Ishtar. She won’t interfere, she _likes_ this. She likes to push. Did you know that, Kylo?»

«Hux…» Ishtar called. There was just a tiny fraction of uncertainty in her voice–so little that I could barely make it out, but there.

Hux was right, of course. Ishtar liked to push. But, right there and then, she didn’t sound very sure about playing that kind of game anymore.

If I heard that wispy thread of doubt, Hux surely did too, and much clearer and quicker than I possibly could–but he trudged on, voice heavy and inexorable like an avalanche.

«Your foolish Jedi, then. Does she know what kind of stubborn, selfish, useless child you are?» The precision with which Hux was delivering his blows was astounding, and there was a razor-sharp edge to his words that made the wounds even deeper, ever bloodier. «Has she already had the honour of suffering through one of your tantrums? Of sitting there like a moron as you quit on her? Has she already found out what kind of pathetic, thoughtless attention-whore you really are, _Knight of Ren_?»

I bit my lips, as I felt every single barb slashing at Kylo as though I was physically there, touching his skin as Hux shredded it into blood-soaked ribbons.

The problem -the tragedy of it, really- was that Hux was right. Whatever pull Kylo had on me, whatever feelings I could be harbouring for him, one month and counting of Skype conversations had put together the very same picture that Hux was currently painting, each brushstroke underlining an ugly corner, a crumbling archway, a musty beam.

A stubborn child, selfish and prickly and incapable of dealing with his own rage. Mindless. Careless.

Kylo was exactly that, and even if I knew, deep down, that he wasn’t _only_ that, it was getting more and more difficult to remember–to jump back, to a kiss at an airport–and back, to the taste of his skin–and back, back all the way, to a cool night breeze and to wide, scared, big brown eyes.

For a moment, in the cutting silence that followed, Kylo’s ragged breath crackled like a slap–like a wail. Then, his character disappeared, and a ping from our collective sound systems informed us that _Kylo_Ren_ had exited the chat.

Hux scoffed at that, and for a single, crystallized moment, I wished for nothing more than to have him in front of me, in person, so that I could break my chair over his back. It lasted only a second, but it burnt fierce, and alien–like an echo of something I’d felt years, centuries before. A misguided protectiveness that sparked in my memory like wildfire in a foreign jungle.

«That was… unnecessary.» Ishtar’s voice was obviously displeased, clashing with the soft way her Knight was swaying in the gloomy Coruscanti alley. «We were having fun, you know.»

«You invited me here - Hux pointed out, and as deep as the aversion I felt at the sheer sound of his voice was, I couldn’t fault his observation - You _wanted_ this. Do not complain about the damage, if you mistreat your toys.»

And he was right, _again_ , because that was how Ishtar saw us, truly saw us–as things she owned, things she could push around at will. She was playing with us, just as Kylo was forever nursing his simmering anger, and I was shifting back and forth between choking in my own feelings and staring at the both of them from an unconquerable distance.

What a trio we made.

«Is that Jedi of yours dead?» Hux snickered, aiming for a reaction, and I felt fractured again, awfully disfranchised as I realised that I should _have_ one, but there was nothing there. I was seeing too much, and I was too rusty, too unable to cope with my own feelings to process it.

Vulnerability and eagerness and need, all wound up together in the boy I knew as Kylo Ren, were slashed through by a selfish, messy, unreliable streak–just as an egotistical, thoughtless vein ran all the way through the fearless, strong, passionate core of Ishtar’s nature.

Those were the people I’d willingly let into my life. And I didn’t know what I was feeling, or what I was supposed to feel, or if I felt anything at all.

«I’m here - I replied, as from a great distance - Is there anything else you would like to say?»

Hux’s whiff of a laugh had something ragged in it, something grating. Something vicious, and something almost angry.

«You don’t know» he sneered, a barely-there flicker of surprise interlaced through his words.

«Hux» Ishtar called, in a warning tone that I’d never heard from her before. But Hux paid her no mind.

«You act so intolerably arrogant, and yet you don’t know a thing. But you will.»

«You said enough - Ishtar snapped, with the same cold, strange tension - You had your fun. You can go, now.»

«As you wish» Hux replied in a mocking, snarling voice that killed the subservient meaning of his words. And then he was gone, and I was left alone with Ishtar in a gloomy, sickly lit Coruscanti alley.

Ishtar’s sigh filled the silence.

«What a nice disaster» she grumbled, before sighing again. I almost saw the shift of her shoulders, as she shrugged it off. «Oh, well. It’s not the first time that Hux pisses Kylo off. He’ll get over it - she added, more and more blithely as she went on - He’ll work through it on his own and then he’ll come back in two or three days, at worst.»

I wanted to say something, anything, to break that awfully, forcedly cheerful stream of words, but there was nothing for me to say.

_He’s hurt. He’s vulnerable. He’s bleeding._

Strings of letters devoid of meaning, without the hint of a feeling to push them through. Marbles falling through my fingers, useless and empty, as they bounced and rolled over the floor.

«Yes.»

«Kylo… does that. Logging out without saying goodbye - Ishtar went on, as her character brushed a finger over the silver lining of her horned helmet - He does that during raids and quests, too. He’ll fight until his Knight is torn into pieces, but if the battle is lost because of someone else’s fault -they died, or they used the wrong Force ability, the wrong gear, the wrong strategy-, Kylo will leave us to die.» There was another shrug in her voice. «He’s a rage-quitter. It drives Hux insane.»

I knew that she wanted me to say something, anything, to break that terrible silence, but there was a devouring emptiness in my mind.

«I… I’ve already realised that» I replied, eventually, hoping to make sense. «Do you want to carry on with your quest?»

Ishtar sighed again, relief plain in the sound.

«Why not. Let’s go.»

We reached the transport platform, and off we were–flying throughout star systems and slices of open space, to a brand new world.

 


	4. Part IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I’m truly sorry it took me forever to post a new chapter, but life has been hectic in the past couple of months. This story, however, was never forgotten, and now that I have a little more time I’ll try to update more often, ideally once per month. I hope the new chapter will be worth the wait, and, as usual, every comment is much appreciated.
> 
> I’d also like to introduce my partner in crime, and co-creator of Ishtar and Niahm: PhrikeDeimos, who finally joined us on AO3. I can’t even begin to describe how much joy it brings me playing with her in our little _Star Wars_ sandbox, and I truly hope that our work will bring the same joy to you :)

The easiest way to rebuild my routine, of course, was to incorporate any new variable in it as soon as possible–and that, more or less intentionally, was what I did.

Ishtar’s traineeship at _Maison Mandalore_ kept her busy most mornings, but she was usually home from early in the afternoon to late in the night–she would often log in then, and sometimes keep our chat open as she cleaned or cooked or ate. Her routine was fairly easy to predict, and thus to accommodate.

From time to time, she would be seized somewhat unexpectedly by some artistic urges that would put her hard at work on some new piece of clothing. Then, she would keep us apprised of her progresses through a deluge of pictures, either of her sketches or of the latest stage of her new creation, although I wasn’t completely sure why–accidental dark-sided outbursts aside, Kylo and I held a concept of clothing that was utilitarian at best, and our understanding of fashion was practically non-existent.

Kylo, on the other hand, had turned out to be stubbornly reluctant to share anything he did outside the game. The picture I’d been able to put together, either from the meagre scraps he’d shared or the little clues he’d unwittingly let on, was that he was currently working three different jobs, and that he hated all of them equally. When he wasn’t working his hands to the bone behind the till of a fast food, he was helping in the kitchen of a restaurant, or delivering pizzas. He’d be careful about it, but sometimes he’d log in with a light blue _Domino’s_ t-shirt hanging from his shoulders, or with that horrid yellow hat on his head, or he would complain about the stink of the kitchen still clinging to his skin.

Not only were his appearances difficult to predict, since his life seemed to revolve around his part-time jobs, but vanishing for days on end without a word turned out to be some sort of habit of his. Ishtar would barely shrug at his disappearing acts, but I wasn’t able to shake them off so quickly, and it bothered me how distressing I found them–how deeply affected I was, each and every time he’d vanish. There was nothing I could do about it, however, so I kept my uneasiness and my unwarranted apprehensions to myself. It was ridiculous how little control I had over my feelings–how difficult it was to feel at all, sometimes, and how impossible it was at other times to stop.

My daily schedule, amongst the three of us, was the easiest to bend. I didn’t have obligations, aside the deadlines established by my clients, and there was nowhere I had to be. It became a habit, after a while, to log in on Skype when I turned on my laptop, and to log out when I went to sleep.

As the still-sweltering September slowly came to an end, giving way to a somewhat cooler October, a mint-new routine had started to emerge. I would wake up around seven o’clock, as I always had, and after a shower and a quick breakfast I would work throughout the morning without taking a break, until my stomach reminded me that there was something else in the world, aside a string of letters on my screen in need of a thorough whipping. I would warm something up then, and eat at my desk–sometimes alone, sometimes with Kylo’s drawn, resentful face to keep me company. He was rarely vivacious during those breaks between jobs, but he could get talkative enough if TFA or the _Star Wars_ franchise were brought in the mix. Ishtar would show up before he left, sometimes, and sometimes she would log in only very late in the afternoon, just as I was having dinner, and cheerfully bring me up to date about her job and the terrible tasteless intern that her atelier had taken in six month before and that was currently eating her dust. We would spend our evenings playing, or watching some movie together as we littered our private WhatsApp chat with notes and remarks.

Kylo, on his part, would pop up at any time during the day–or during the night. What for me had been an exception, restricted to those busy days at the convention, had turned out to be the norm for Kylo and Ishtar. The both of them seemed to run on very little sleep, and were perfectly capable of staying up playing the whole night, sleeping for less than one hour, and then going to work barely with bleary eyes. I didn’t know what their secret was–the first day at home after the convention, I’d slept for fourteen hours straight. While I pretty much collapsed before midnight most evenings, Kylo and Ishtar would go on playing until three or four in the morning.

As one day rolled after the other, I somehow realised that I wasn’t just getting used to them–I was adapting to them, including them in my life, and making them part of my routine. I had no idea what that _meant_ , if it meant anything, but it _felt_ permanent, and there was something slightly unsettling in that thought.

That Sunday, like every Sunday, was cleaning day. As the first October winds brought some measure of relief to Starloft, with its marshes and its plantation stretching out for miles just outside the urban centre, I went about sprucing up my flat with more enthusiasm that I’d managed to put together throughout the entire summer. I’d left my window open, and the flat felt strangely silent, with the rickety AC system finally turned off.

It was five in the afternoon, and both Kylo and Ishtar were online at the same time. As I stripped the sheets off my bed and allowed the mattress to breathe, I listened distractedly to their animated discussion about the latest TFA updates.

«What’s the point of introducing a new star system if you can only visit a deserted Rebel base? - Kylo was raging, as though those updates were personally offending him - It might bring something to the Resistance, but to the First Order it’s absolutely useless.»

«Maybe they will expand it later on. Like they did with Jakku.»

«Yes, because all we needed was another desert planet. Tattoine was more than enough.»

«Of course - Ishtar replied, and even if I was currently looking away from the screen, I could _hear_ her rolling her eyes - No one needs another desert planet, after the one where our Lord and Saviour Darth Vader was born.»

«Well, _yes_! And they could always expand _that_. Players can only visit Mos Eisley and some parts of Jabba’s palace. It’s idiotic to say the least.»

«I agree. They should definitely open to players the exact spot where Darth Vader was born, so we could all go there to pay our respects.»

«They _should_. _We_ should. The First Order rose from the Dark Side!»

«All hail the Dark Side!»

I snickered under my breath, as I kneeled in front of a little cabinet and cleaned the cheep wood of the shelves. I conceded very little to the unnecessary in my flat, but I hadn’t been able to give up my _Star Wars_ collection–it was one of the very few things I’d brought with me from my uncle’s house, and steadily expanded as new chapters were added to the franchise. I kept it in the only cabinet I owned, placed under the window at the side of a slim chest-of-drawers. It contained the complete DVD collection of the old _Knights of the Galactic Republic_ TV series, cancelled after three seasons only to become years later a mass phenomena; the three RPGs for Playstation that dealt with the rise of the Empire, the extermination of the Jedi Order and the introduction of the character that would become the symbol of the entire franchise, Darth Vader; the stand-alone TV-movie that followed the brave fight lead by the Rebellion against a new, deadly weapon built by the Empire, the Death Star; and, lastly, the one-season TV series _A New Hope_ , that recounted the fall of the Empire and the foundation of a New Republic, with its own Jedi Order. The franchise had then been expanded by a number of other medias, amongst which online MMOs. _The Force Awakens_ -or TFA, as its players affectionately called it- was an unofficial sequel of _A New Hope_ , picking up where the TV series had left off–thirty years after the fall of the Empire, the New Jedi Order and a brave Resistance were called to fight the First Order, a military organization born from the Dark Side that was threatening the newly founded Republic.

Crammed in a corner of my little _Star Wars_ cabinet, a few well-thumbed novels completed my collection, so old they weren’t even canon anymore. Unwanted memories floated unbidden into my mind, as I took one of them in hand–memories of reading a copy in the local public library, because the little desk hidden in the most remote corner of its third floor was the closest thing I had to my own place.

I shoved the novel back in its place, jammed above a line of frequently-dusted DVDs. There was no point in remembering. As Ishtar’s and Kylo’s voices filtered back into my conscious mind, I rose on my feet, and went on with my dusting.

«You can’t seriously be telling me that there are significant differences between Tattoine and Jakku!» Kylo was bellowing into his microphone, entirely too worked-up for an online MMO that wasn’t even canon.

«Yes, alright, it’s redundant, but the same can be said for Coruscant and Hosnian Prime. Yet I don’t hear you protest so much about _that_.»

«That’s completely different.»

«Because Holy Vader wasn’t born there?»

«Stop talking like that about Darth Vader!»

«Come here and _make_ me, then!»

I huffed, as the painfully obvious sexual innuendo flew well above Kylo’s head, more or less unintentionally. I never knew if he was actually _that_ blind to Ishtar’s less-than-subtle attempts, or if he was faking to avoid the inevitable embarrassment. My guess was a little bit of both.

I strengthened up, broom in hand, when Kylo’s moody voice ringed out of my sound system.

«Ni? What are you doing?»

«Sweeping the floor - I explained, pushing myself in cam range - Sunday is cleaning day.»

«What about you, Ni? - Ishtar leered - Are you clean enough? Or should I check?»

I shook my head with a low chuckle, as Kylo hid his burning cheeks.

«I’ll take a shower when I’m done, if that’s what you mean» I grinned, ignoring Ishtar’s «That’s _not_ what I meant!» and brushing a lock of sweat-matted blond hair off my forehead. «I’ll be back in a moment.»

I let them to their bickering, as I finished sweeping and mopping the floor. I sat at my desktop, then, waiting for the cheap linoleum to dry up.

«I’m bored, Ni» Ishtar complained, when Kylo fell in a sullen silence. She was sprawled over her creamy couch, wearing a thick burgundy robe artistically opened-up to reveal a pale thigh. «And horny. Show me something.»

«I’m sweating like a pig right now, I’m disgusting!» I chuckled, as Kylo stared at a corner of his screen–but not before shooting me a fleeting, embarrassed glance, that had something almost hopeful to it.

«So what? Even better. You’re all shiny, and I like the taste of it. Take off your shirt.»

«I’m not taking off my shirt, I’m trying to clean my flat.»

«Your pants, then. I’m not picky. I love your ass.»

«You’re impossible!» I laughed, while Ishtar sighed and draped herself over the couch in her most dramatically defeated pose.

«If memories could wear out, yours would be paper-thin by now - she grumbled - At least distract me in _some_ way!»

I chuckled, turning around to check the state of my floor. Kylo had gone very quiet–as he always did, when Ishtar prodded either of us for some cam-sex.

«You can watch me make the bed, if you want.»

«Can you do it naked? - Ishtar asked, perking up for a second, before sighing again at my laugh - I’ll take that as a no.» She waved her hand, with painful resignation written all over her long-suffering face. «Alright. Show me your flat, then.»

«My flat?»

«Well, yes. You live alone, you said. Show us.»

I paused a little, before shrugging.

«Alright. Let me switch to my phone, it’s easier to move around.»

Truth was, there wasn’t much to see. My flat was small even for studio standards, with a single bed pushed in a corner, a little nightstand, a cheap wardrobe and a small chest-of-drawers. My _Star Wars_ cabinet, a hard chair and the small round table that I used as desk completed the picture. I disliked ornaments, and, aside those worn-out _Star Wars_ novels, I didn’t own any book–the last I borrowed from the local library was lying on my nightstand, while the rest of my reading material was neatly stacked into my tablet.

«Is that _all_?» Ishtar gasped, as I completed the round.

I shrugged, forgetting that she couldn’t see me.

«There is a bathroom, over there, and here’s the kitchen–but yeah, that’s pretty much it.»

The bathroom was small, with a tiny shower built in a corner, and the kitchen was barely more than a hole in the wall. But everything was clean and tidy–my flat might’ve been ridiculously small, but there was nothing in it that I was ashamed to show.

As I sat back on my desk, switching to my laptop, I saw Ishtar staring at me with a somewhat disbelieving expression. She’d straightened herself up, at some point, and was sporting a deep frown on her pale forehead.

«How do you even _live_ like that?» she asked, as though she couldn’t truly fathom the answer.

«I don’t mind small. Everything is close at hand.»

Ishtar didn’t look convinced, but I wasn’t lying–I liked my flat. It was small, maybe, but it was mine. And it wasn’t like I hadn’t slept in even tinier rooms, after all. Rooms I’d had to share.

«That’s… true, I guess» Ishtar conceded, clearly struggling to understand how a human being could be happy to live in those conditions. «I don’t know. I wouldn’t be able to breathe in that, I think.»

«I think it’s nice» Kylo said, voice low and a little uncertain. «I mean, it _is_ small, but… it’s yours. All yours.»

It startled me, hearing my own thoughts spoken in his deep voice. Kylo was normally so angry, so stubborn, so deceitfully childish, that I forgot how perceptive he could be.

«Yes» I replied, at a loss for anything else to say.

Before I could come up with something more intelligent to say, however, a bright light went off behind Kylo’s shoulders, and a voice, a man’s voice, ringed through the connection.

«Ben? Your mother’s calling. You got deaf all of a sudden, kid?»

I barely had the time to take the voice in -to take the _room_ in, a low vaulted ceiling and a poster-covered wall with a weight bench and the corner of a bed in the background-, that Kylo jumped as if he’d been electrocuted.

« _SHIT_!» he hissed, eyes wide and dark and frantic, as he reached for the mouse. I managed to hear a furious, biting «It’s Kylo, old man, how many tim-», before the connection was severed, and Ishtar’s face took up the whole screen.

I blinked. I was used by now to Kylo’s brusque disappearances, but that was a new level of abrupt.

 _Ben_. We had a name now, apparently. Not that I would ever use it–if he’d introduced himself as Kylo, that was what I was going to call him.

«Oh, well. He’s gone again» Ishtar sighed, before lazily rolling her shoulders. «I don’t suppose you’d show me some tits or ass now, right?»

I snorted, as an eyebrow slowly crawled up my forehead.

«Right - Ishtar grumbled, looking around - I could show you my flat, if you want. I don’t think I have, yet.»

«You haven’t» I agreed, settling more comfortably in my chair. Save for a cat we still had to see, Ishtar too lived alone–but her flat was big enough that she could actually move her laptop in various rooms, showing us different backgrounds every time she turned her web-cam on. I couldn’t deny being curious about it.

«Wait, I’ll switch to my phone» she mumbled, before stopping dead on her tracks. She glanced at me, then, somewhat uncertain under her frowning brows. «It’s not… It’s not like I want to _brag_ , though. My flat is not small. Really, really not small.»

I smiled, even more surprised by her sudden surge of empathy than I’d been by Kylo’s unexpected insight.

«It’s fine, don’t worry. I do like my tiny tiny flat, you know.»

Ishtar shot me another inquisitive glance, before shrugging slightly.

«Alright, then.»

Ishtar’s apartment turned out to be big enough that it could’ve contained my own several times over, if I’d bothered to try. Her living room was already twice the size of my entire flat, and kitchen and bathroom were just as broad. Every space was tastefully arranged, almost impersonally so, though I could see bits of Ishtar here and there–a stack of _Vogue_ magazines, a few books, DVDs, clothes, thick spreads and shapeless scraps of fabric.

On the other hand, her extra-bedroom -working as a studio- was cluttered beyond measure. The room was big enough to contain a huge desk, littered with half-finished sketches, pencils, inks and erasers, and rolls of fabric, huge and colourful and neatly arranged over rows and rows of shelves, stretched along three walls out of four. A sewing machine on its stand had been pushed into corner, and a tall mannequin was standing at the centre of the room, half-dressed and surrounded by bits of fabric. Whatever I could see of the walls was painted in the same warm coffee colour of the rest of the flat–save for the bathroom’s walls, coated in a light shade of blue.

«I have to be careful with this room» Ishtar said, as she walked out of her studio and locked the door behind her back. «BB9 is well-trained, but I think that all that could turn out to be a little too much of a temptation, for him.»

«Where is he, by the way?» I asked, and there it was again–that almost foreign feeling. _Curiosity_.

«Oh, he likes to sleep in my bedroom» Ishtar replied, picking her way towards the last room of her apartment. «He can hear us talking, and he usually doesn’t come out until we’re done. He doesn’t really like people.»

I arched a brow, as Ishtar stepped into her bedroom. It was just as big as her studio, maybe more, and furnished with a huge wardrobe with mirror doors and a wide, antique-looking white vanity. Most of the space, however, was taken by the most gigantic bed I’d ever seen–topped by the fluffiest cat I’d ever laid my eyes on, dark pelt almost melting in the slate-gray sheets.

«Here he is!» Ishtar cooed, as she carefully settled her phone on the nightstand and picked up the thick mass of black fur. The mattress was so soft that it seemed to suck Ishtar in as she sat on top of it, fussing with her phone until both her and her cat were perfectly framed by the small cam mounted on top.

«Ni, allow me to introduce you to the king of my castle - Ishtar declared, turning the fuzzy heap around until I was coolly measured by a pair of golden eyes - BB9, darling, this is Ni.»

I blinked. It was a silly thought, but I felt as though the cat -BB9- was staring straight at me, assessing me with a glare that wasn’t particularly friendly.

«He’s… he’s big» I carefully tried, when nothing else came to mind. _He’s unsettling_ didn’t sound like a compliment, though Ishtar could’ve very well taken it as such.

Ishtar shrugged, cuddling the cat in her arms and scratching the patches of thick black fur just behind its ears.

«It’s just fur. And hatred. Mostly hatred. Isn’t it true, sweetness? - she cooed, before looking up and smiling cheerfully at me - Aw, he likes you!»

He didn’t look like he liked me. His glare was unwavering, and I could do nothing but stare back.

«Are you sure?»

«Oh, yes - Ishtar chuckled, looking down at BB9 with obvious affection - I was playing with Kylo, yesterday night, and we were chatting on Skype. BB9 just jumped on my bed, sniffed at my laptop and started hissing at him. It was hilarious! Poor Kylo, you should’ve seen his face.»

«I can imagine» I replied, trying hard not to laugh. But I _could_ imagine, and it was so difficult to reign my hilarity in as I pictured Kylo’ face–surprised and shocked and utterly, unbearably _affronted_.

Ishtar did not even try. She laughed, open and a little wicked. Her long fingers shifted to her cat’s soft throat, and BB9 immediately lifted his head to give her room. His half-curled lip showed a sharp fang, starkly white on the backdrop of his black fur, and even if narrowed to slivers, his golden eyes were still fixed on me.

«So believe me when I say–my baby really likes you - Ishtar giggled, before folding almost in half to kiss his nose - Of course he does. Like his mommy.»

I chuckled, soft and low, and shook my head.

«How old is he?»

«Five years old. I got him when I moved here. My first apartment–my first cat.»

«He’s very beautiful» I remarked, and, as unsettling as that baleful glower could be, I was telling the truth. The fur looked cloud-soft, of a black so deep and uniform that I could barely make out a few dark brown spots, and the yellow eyes were sharp and luminous.

«He is, isn’t he? - Ishtar replied, with a proud smile on her elegant lips - I’ve taken good care of him, even if Hux said that he wouldn’t trust me to look after a plastic cactus. We showed him, darling, didn’t we?»

Ishtar’s laugh was bright and a little smug. As much as I disliked Hux, I couldn’t help to agree with him–but I wisely decided to keep my opinion to myself.

«It took them a while to get along, too - Ishtar went on - Every time Hux stayed here, BB9 would sharpen his claws on his boots. Used to drive Hux _insane_. That man loves his shoes more than I do.»

I snickered. I could picture Hux’s face as easily as I pictured Kylo’s–and the enjoyment, this time, had a mean streak to it.

«I like him» I grinned, and I could see the same mean glint mirrored in Ishtar’s smirk.

«I knew you would.»

 

* * *

 

 

«You remember Phasma, don’t you?»

The connection had barely sparked to life, that Ishtar’s happy face was already taking up most of my screen. I hadn’t expected neither Kylo nor her to show up for another two hours, at least–which was why I’d pushed aside my small table and made some space for my yoga matt, so that I could use that unexpected idle time to loosen up my stiff muscles and meditate. The quiet shuffling of sea-waves was still echoing in my small flat, and I felt a droplet of sweat run down my neck and into the cleavage of my white tank-top as I bent down to close the YouTube window.

The soothing rustle of sea-waves stopped abruptly, just as I focused on the hulking figure looming over Ishtar’s angular face.

«Yes, of course.» Even if Phasma hadn’t been a regular feature in Ishtar’s fashion-related pictures, it would’ve been difficult to forget that mountain of a woman, covered in a silver Stormtrooper armour and raising up like a watchtower in the middle of a busy convention room. «Nice to see you again.»

Phasma arched a bottle-blonde eyebrow as she looked me over, but her voice was polite enough when she replied in kind. She was forced to bend to fit into the cam, and her elegant woman-suit did nothing to make her look less imposing.

«Same here.» There was the tiniest hint of a smirk on her face. She was wearing an amount of make-up so risible that she looked like she was wearing nothing at all. «Ishtar told me about your… thing.»

« _Thing_ » I repeated, as if I was tasting the word on my tongue. That was exactly how Ishtar had called whatever it was that she shared with Hux. A _thing_.

The thought sat uncomfortably in my chest. I didn’t particularly appreciate it.

«Yes. You and Ishtar and Kylo Ren.» There was obvious amusement painted all over Phasma’s face, but I wasn’t sure what was causing it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to _know_ what was causing it. «It’s… puzzling, to say the least, but exactly the kind of thing I could see Ishtar throwing herself into.»

«I see.»

Phasma stared at me for a moment longer, over Ishtar’s pinched face, before shrugging and straightening up.

«I should get going, I think.»

«Yes - Ishtar replied, brows drawn into a displeased little frown - I’ll walk you out.»

«Have a nice evening» Phasma called out, a note of hilarity in her voice.

«You too.»

I rose on my feet, as Ishtar accompanied the towering woman to the door and bid her goodbye. I was busy coiling my yoga matt into a tidy roll, when Ishtar came back to her desk and perched her lithe body over her easy-chair. There was an unhappy curl to her pink mouth.

«A little effort to get along with my friends wouldn’t kill either you or Kylo, you know» she complained, nimble fingers playing with one of her white braids. «Phasma was just trying to be nice.»

I tied my rolled-up matt and put it back in its corner, between my nightstand and the wall. The days were becoming colder, as October ticked by, but the abating heath wasn’t doing much for the unrelenting humidity. I could feel the swinging tip of my messy ponytail stick to the sweat that had gathered at the base of my neck.

«Is that so.»

«Yes - Ishtar insisted - I don’t know why you got all… prickly, all of a sudden.»

«I wasn’t _prickly_.»

I _wasn’t_.

«You were. You did that thing of yours–the dead-eyed stare.»

«I wasn’t dead-eyed» I protested, sitting back in front of my laptop.

«You _were_ \- Ishtar objected, still frowning - Trust me, that’s a look I would recognize everywhere.»

«If you say so» I conceded, with a little shrug. «I should get a shower, I’m filthy.»

«Yes, you are. Filthy and drenching wet» Ishtar agreed, as her displeased frown morphed into a more familiar, hungry expression. «I love that tank-top. It looks like it’s being painted on you. I can see your nipples.»

I scoffed, as that bothersome, uneasy feeling slowly receded, melting away like spring snow.

«Everything is about sex with you» I protested, but without real heath. There was something familiar in that kind of bantering–something comforting, in a way. «And clothes.»

«What else should it be about?» Ishtar huffed, lovely lips curled down in a frustrated pout. «I’m not like you two monks, who can go on for two months _and counting_ without sex.»

I rubbed the towel I’d laid out over my chair across my nape, trying to dry up the soaked skin.

«Kylo’s not ready. You know that. You can _see_ that.»

«I don’t think his dick would agree - Ishtar grumbled, with a peeved sniffle - He just needs a little push. Like at the convention.»

«It’s different» I replied, as I rubbed the towel over my face.

«But _why_?» Ishtar straight-up _whined_. «What’s the difference? I am still me and you are still you, the same two people who had his dick stuck in their throats not even two months ago!»

«And counting» I nagged, just because that _thing_ was still lodged somewhere in my mind, like a splinter that I couldn’t get out of my skin.

«Yes, _and counting_. Don’t you people _want_ to get off?»

«It’s not so simple.»

«Yes, it is! It’s the simplest thing ever! - Ishtar moaned, throwing her hands up in utter exasperation - You take your clothes off and you touch yourself. We all do it. Together, in turns–whichever you like best. We get each other off. It’s not ideal, of course, it’s not like fucking, but at least it would be _something_!»

«I don’t think Kylo feels comfortable doing that, yet. And it’s not like you haven’t proposed it before.»

«I _hinted_ at it. Maybe I should be more explicit…?»

«…you really don’t need to.»

«Then why? Why do you people have to be so difficult?»

I tried not to laugh, but there was something hilarious in Ishtar’s frustration. I hid my face behind my towel, as she huffed and puffed and reclined dramatically all over her easy-chair. I knew they had lower temperatures in Galactic City, but it was still strange talking to somebody wearing a soft white pullover as I sweated in my tank-top.

«We’re not _difficult_ , we just have a different concept of boundaries.»

 «You. Are. Difficult» Ishtar declared, marking each and every word with a pointed jab of her finger. «You are difficult, Kylo is difficult, even _Hux_ is difficult! HUX! Can you believe it? Since when _Hux_ tells me _no_?»

Whatever smirk I was trying to hide behind the towel, that name killed it with a sniper-like precision.

«…Hux?»

Ishtar didn’t hear the tone with which I spoke, or she didn’t understand. She just went on, working herself up to a fury.

«Yes, _Hux_! I couldn’t believe it either! Since _when_ he doesn’t take out his dick the moment I ask him to?» I felt my stomach drop, an ugly, heavy feeling, as the meaning of her words truly sank in. «We’ve been together since I was fifteen. Twelve years! Twelve! And when I told him that I was dick-starved and boobs-starved and that I needed to see _something_ , since you two were keeping me on a sex-diet, he said–he said _no_!»

I could feel the cold of my voice, something horrible and curiously _betrayed_.

«You’re not together anymore.»

« _That_ is what you took from all this? - Ishtar exploded, staring at me with disbelieving eyes - I said _dick_ and he said _no_ and–and– _this_ is what you have to say?»

«Ishtar» I called, voice cold and quiet and low. «Ishtar. You said to Kylo–you said that we were his girlfriends.»

The confusion in Ishtar’s eyes, as she paused and blinked, would’ve looked hilarious, in another occasion. It wasn’t now.

«What does that have to do with anything?» Ishtar snapped, pout deepening.

«You said we were his _girlfriends_ , you can’t go having sex with other people!»

«It’s not people, it’s Hux! - Ishtar replied, as if that would explain everything - It’s not like I’m going out to hook up with random men! Or women!»

I wasn’t having that conversation. It was too surreal.

«Your ex? That Kylo hates? How is that better?»

Ishtar was staring at me as though I was completely crazy, and a small part of my brain, for a moment, wondered if I was. It’d been so long, after all–and whatever Kevan and I had shared wasn’t exactly a model relationship. Maybe that was normal. Maybe I was the one out of fashion, out of time, out of _mind_.

Maybe _that_ was what going insane actually felt like.

«It’s… _Hux_ » Ishtar repeated, and there was something almost lost in her voice now, as though she was trying to convey a concept so painfully obvious that she had no words to explain it. «I’m horny, and I’m trying to be good for you, but… I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me, it makes no sense. And Hux is… Hux.» Ishtar licked her lips, as her eyes took an almost beseeching look. «It’s not even real sex. He’s not here, he’s… somewhere else. I just wanted him to take his dick out on camera. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before. I wouldn’t even touch, just… look. I need to have sex, and you’re not giving it to me, and I just want to see a dick for five minutes. Why is that wrong? - Ishtar’s frown deepened, deep and furrowed like a canyon between her pale brows - Why are you mad at me?»

That was enough to give me pause. I didn’t know if I was mad, but I was sure that I hadn’t been telegraphing it around. I wasn’t shouting, and my face, as I threw a quick look at my own thumbnail, was frozen into a light frown, more uncomprehending than angry.

I didn’t _look_ angry. I didn’t even know if I _was_ angry. But the fact that Ishtar saw it, perceived it, somehow, settled heavy and troubling in my mind.

«I’m not mad at you» I replied, trying for the quietest, most soothing voice I could muster. «It’s just that… you’ve made a promise. We are in a relationship, Kylo and you and I, are we not?»

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, my breath caught. I realized that I wasn’t sure about the answer, and I didn’t expect the cruel thump of my heart at the thought.

It lasted only a moment, but it felt as though it went on for decades.

«Yes, of course» Ishtar quickly replied, as though she was somewhat relieved to know the answer of at least one question.

«You don’t screw other people, if you are in a relationship.» Unless you’d agreed to beforehand, but Ishtar seemed to find the whole concept confusing enough–no need to throw too many irons in the fire. Or to give her ideas. «It doesn’t matter whether you’re getting enough sex or not. You just don’t do it.»

Ishtar mulled the idea over for a moment, before pouting again.

«It doesn’t seem very fair - she grumbled - And it’s not people, it’s _Hux_.»

«You keep repeating that, like it’s some sort of explanation» I sighed, shaking my head. «I know you think you’re making sense, but you really aren’t.»

«I don’t know how to make you understand» Ishtar cried, and there was a note of true, undiluted unhappiness in her voice now, as though the idea of me not comprehending what she was trying to say truly saddened her. «It’s _Hux_ , not someone I picked off the street. It’s not like Phasma, even. We’ve been together since we were kids. He was my first. We had fun with others, but we were… us.»

As I took in Ishtar’s dejected face, I finally, finally _understood_. Not completely, and I guess I never would, but I understood her point of view. In some way, it was my very own–she didn’t know how things could be different, because that was what she’d been used to, all her life. I didn’t know if that was Hux’s fault, or anyone else’s, but one thing I knew–as much as I understood her, I also understood Kylo, and I knew how deep what she’d told me would wound him.

I couldn’t allow that–I couldn’t allow Ishtar to destroy him, whether she meant to do it or not. It didn’t matter that I understood her. It didn’t even matter that I didn’t really mind, up to a point, or that I would’ve probably let her transition to a relationship, _our_ relationship, more gently, if it’d been up to me. The only thing that mattered, was that Ishtar’s lack of sex would be less destructive for whatever we shared than Kylo’s heartbreak if he ever found out. I needed to choose, and I chose the lesser evil.

«You can’t keep us and Hux at the same time» I explained, as gently as I could. «You need to choose.»

I wouldn’t have been able to stay, if Kylo had been spurned for Hux. Even if I didn’t mind Hux, not really. I just… couldn’t. It would hurt Kylo even more, and it didn’t matter what I felt, how far-off from each other we’d drifted–I couldn’t stand the thought of hurting them. Neither or them. My dead heart would not let me.

Ishtar’s eyes were so tragically lost that my flesh, my skin ached to touch her, to kiss that frown off her forehead. To whisper in her ear that everything was alright, that she could have everything she wanted.

«But… _why_?»

I looked away.

«Because otherwise you’d break Kylo’s heart. And you know _why_ that would be.»

That seemed to be enough. Ishtar’s black eyes clouded over, as she stared at one of her manicured hands.

«Alright.» She blinked, once, twice, frown smoothing out in something forlorn, something miserable. «It’s you, you know it’s you. Hux is… different. Alright.»

I should’ve felt relief, but I didn’t. There was a weight, on my chest, that felt like a stone.

_These are the people you let into your life._

Drifting and far-between, now.

«Alright» I repeated. I had more to say, and I steeled myself as I pushed it out of my clenched teeth. «Kylo doesn’t need to know about this. I won’t… I won’t tell him.»

 _This time_ went unspoken, but it sat there, harsh and heavy. I had no doubt that Ishtar heard it, too.

«I think–I think I need to go» Ishtar said, and a second later the connection went black and dead.

I needed to get up, take a shower. I felt filthy, with the sweat drying over my clammy skin.

I stayed there, instead–and stared at the silent screen for a long, long time.

 


	5. Part V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn’t realised how long it took me to publish this new chapter until I checked the date of the last update. I am truly sorry, and I promise that I will update again in a few weeks.  
> Meanwhile, I hope you like the chapter, and that at least it was worth the wait :)

«What I’m saying is, Hux can’t just invite whomever he feels like to join us. Which level is Dolph, 14? 15? Anshar’s the lowest in our guild, and he’s a level 26. I don’t care if Dolph is Hux’s pet project, he can’t just saddle us with a level 14. What the hell are we supposed to do with a level 14? Carry out those pathetic in-game quests? Look after the old lady’s stupid banta herd on Tattoine and collect the ingredients for her special soup? No way. I’m a fucking _Knight of Ren_ , not a nerf-herder.»

I didn’t even bother to think of a reply, as Kylo’s angry, rumbling voice filled my little flat. My guild was trying to penetrate a First Order’s facility on Ryloth, and I needed to concentrate on keeping up the Force Cloak that was currently hiding Black Leader and me from the Order’s surveillance system. Since the other Jedi in our group had jumped at the chance to gain more flashy and damaging skills as soon as they reached the minimum level, I was the one stuck with camouflage duty in each and every mission.

At least, since we were in teamspeak, I didn’t have to pretend to be riveted as Kylo was throwing the last of an endless string of tantrums. They’d started out as negligible outbursts, few and far between, but in the last weeks they’d become something of a daily ritual. Sometimes, Kylo wouldn’t even say hello before setting off with his latest pet peeve. I’d been worried, at the beginning, and saddened, but I was just tired by now. Nothing I said seemed to be of any help, and I was weary of feeling incapable of understanding, incapable of even the minimum amount of empathy required to comfort him. The only thing I could do was pretending -pretending to be close, when I was miles and miles away, drifting just a little further day after day-, and without the webcam pointed straight into my face, I didn’t even have to do that.

That also meant that I couldn’t see Kylo’s face, but I knew every sullen pout and every raging glare, after two months of rants. And there wasn’t anything else to see, not really–after that little incident with whomever that man was, Kylo had been particularly wary about keeping his lights off, preventing us from seeing anything but his resentful, glowering face.

It was such a little thing to notice, I thought. I’d barely registered such a small anomaly, at the beginning–but after two months of glimpses and crumbs and trickles that I managed to snatch for a few hours every day, I’d learnt to look, I’d learnt to _see_. A face behind a screen and a voice carried through miles were everything I could get, and I’d learnt to treasure them, to keep them safe and loved inside the vault of my mind. But as I began to hoard those little moments, those precious fragments of memories, I’d also started to spot things that before would’ve just fallen under my radar. And once noticed, those little titbits of information would take roots into my brain, and refuse to be dislodged–they would just simmer there, as my lonely mind spun and spun them around. And every time I saw Kylo’s face steeped in darkness, now, I would idly wonder if he was keeping the lights so low because he didn’t want us to _see_ , didn’t want us to _know_ anything more than what he’d offered us during a convention, so long ago that those days were starting to look like the simmering heath given off by the asphalt during a scorching summer day.

Bits and pieces of himself that he wanted to keep out of reach. Secrets never to be told.

_And you are the last one who could blame him._

I hated it, when I could hear my foster sister’s voice in my thoughts.

I frowned, forcing myself to squirm back to the moment, to concentrate on what they were saying–if not on Black Leader’s pixelled ass, which was currently bouncing straight in front of me as we crawled through the ventilation system of the First Order facility. It took someone with the right set of skills to destroy the control panel on the other side of the building, and my character had to be physically close to them for my Force Cloak to cover us both. Since our daring leader was a mechanic, as well as a pilot, he qualified for the job–and of course he’d felt the need to volunteer for the dangerous mission, while the others were comfortably waiting outside the compound for the doors to open in front of them.

«Oh yes, how _dares_ Hux bothering the great Kylo Ren with a newbie - Ishtar was cackling, with a wicked, slightly mean twist to her scoffing voice - There is no respect anymore.»

The knowledge that Ishtar was just as useless as I was to curb Kylo’s tantrums -that she held just as much power as I did in that context- should’ve been a comforting thought, but it wasn’t. It didn’t matter how I felt–I would’ve welcomed anything and anyone that could bring some comfort to Kylo, that could lift his spirit just enough for him not to be so angry all the time. Even as disfranchised as I was, as far as I was drifting, I didn’t want him to carry all that pain, all that rage around. I could see its weight chocking him every time he turned on his webcam.

A long, thick silence followed Ishtar’s gibe, filled to the brim with an unexpressed resentment that didn’t need words to be conveyed. I scrambled for something to say, but there was nothing there, just vague scraps of elusive feelings. So I said nothing, as I followed Black Leader into the bowels of the First Order facility.

The truth was, none of us was equipped to deal with each other. I didn’t know how to talk to them anymore, so I stayed silent, listening and struggling to find something, _anything_ to say–fighting, and failing. Hours would tick by, and only as I said goodnight I’d realize that it was the first word I’d spoken in hours. They would forget that I was still online, sometimes, and nag and dig at each other like wolves–often about Kylo’s latest tantrum, even more often about Hux. He’d turned out to be Kylo’s favourite topic of conversation, and I could be reassured that Kylo would find some brand new affront to huff and puff about every single day. Ishtar seemed to enjoy baiting him, and Kylo, as the time passed, had become pricklier and pricklier about it.

It was strange, how little that Kylo Ren resembled the boy we’d picked up at the convention. He’d been eager, and scared–and proud and touchy and somewhat childish, but exquisitely vulnerable, and almost unbearably sweet. Something of that sweetness had lingered, for a while, but eventually it’d given way to this other Kylo–impatient, rash, quick to take offense and slow to forgive, irritable and almost insufferably stubborn. But most of all, he was _angry_ –so deeply resentful, all of the time, that I wondered just where he’d stored all that excruciating fury in those two days we spent together, walled up in our little bubble.

But maybe that was just it–nothing of what we’d had was real. We’d secluded ourselves in our own personal galaxy, where Kylo was sweet and Ishtar was considerate and I was loving, but the spell had been broken the moment we kissed our goodbyes at the airport. That was what we really were–selfish and lonely and far-away and incapable of a real connection. Isolated as dying stars. Our truest selves.

What was even the point of using a webcam? Kylo would not even look at us in the eyes anymore.

And Ishtar–Ishtar, after that unfortunate conversation the week before, had seemed to drink from Kylo’s same poisoned cup. There had always been an edge to her, just like her soft kisses always had a little teeth, but she’d turned sharp after that, her voice cutting ribbons into Kylo’s tender flesh and lashing over my thicker skin. I wasn’t sure what she thought she would get, but if she wanted a reaction, she had one–from Kylo, at least, since most of her barbs seemed to fall short when she aimed them at me.

I could feel whatever connection I held close to them slip by, day by, and it was sad, and a little tragic, because I _wanted_ to hold onto them–but it was like trying to grasp at snowflakes.

It surprised me, then, to hear what Ishtar filled that dreadful silence with.

«We should meet again.»

I heard a sharp intake of breath, and I knew it was Kylo’s even before he spoke.

«What do you mean?»

«In person - Ishtar specified - It’s been too long. We… we _need_ to meet. We can’t go on like this.»

«I don’t know what you mean» Kylo grunted back, but there was something in his voice now, an uncertain edge. Almost… afraid.

«Yes, you do» Ishtar snapped back. «We need to meet. As soon as possible.»

There was a strange, alien feeling stirring in my chest and in my belly as her words unfurled fully inside my brain. As they acquired weight, and bulk, and meaning.

As I realized that I would be touching them again.

«Where?»

The word was out of my mouth before I could even _think_ about enunciating it, working my mouth around the letters. It seemed to take Ishtar aback.

«Wherever you want. I don’t care.»

«I can’t.» Kylo’s voice was harsh, and angry, almost crackling with his rioting feelings. It sounded as though someone was punching the words out of his chest, as though he was trying to elaborate through gritted teeth. «I _can’t_. I don’t have the money to pay for a hotel. I don’t have the money to pay for a fucking plane.»

It pained him even saying that much, it was obvious to hear. And I knew, I knew that if the roiling mass of his feelings hadn’t been crushing him, he would’ve said nothing at all.

I bit my tongue, before I could say something as stupid as _let us pay for you_. Childish as he might be, Kylo had his pride, and more of it than what was strictly healthy, in my opinion. He would not thank me for what he’d perceive as pity. I understood him enough to know that he wouldn’t appreciate the feeling from anyone, but he’d be unbearably ashamed to receive it from us.

I was still racking my brain for something to say, for any kind of solution that wouldn’t irrevocably wound him, when Ishtar’s voice rang once again through the connection.

«I… think I could help with that» she began, a little uncertainly. «I have one of those gift packs, you know? Surprise a friend with a free weekend getaway, that kind of stuff. We could use it. It’s an all-included formula in whatever hotel we choose, whatever days we prefer.»

I lifted my hands from the keyboard, as I took the news in. It sounded too good to be true. But the sheer idea, the painful hope to be able to finally see them again, _touch_ them again, clouded everything else.

I missed them, I realised, as I stared down at my trembling hands, hovering above the stark counterpoint given by the black keyboard of my laptop. I missed them, painfully, dreadfully, and every feeling I’d kept bottled in until now, every aching memory I’d hushed during those two and a half months, roared back to life. I might’ve been unable to feel for these strangers, for these people that haunted my life as ghosts, but for Ishtar and Kylo and their warm bodies and gentle hands, for the smoothness of their skin and the softness of their lips, I could.

The unbearable need to touch them again rolled over me like an avalanche. I didn’t care for anything else. I wanted to feel alive again, I wanted to feel close to someone again. As much as those memories had been casted in gold, polished so often they shone of inner light, they had to be more than a trick of my lonely mind. What I’d felt with them, as I held them close and kissed their skin, had to be real. It _had_ to be. And I wanted to experience that again.

**_Niahm? You alright? We’re kinda on a mission, here._ **

I startled back to present, as I saw Black Leader’s character stall in the narrow shaft of the ventilation system. The chat I held open for my guild was buzzing with messages, demanding to know what was going on.

I shook my head.

 ** _Yes_** , I replied. **_Everything’s fine. Let’s move on._**

I was tired already of this raid, but I’d agreed to it, and I wasn’t going to back off halfway through. I put my hands back to the keyboard, and my character went on with her crawling, straight after Black Leader.

The line I shared with Kylo and Ishtar was also silent, and I knew that Kylo was mulling over the offer. He was probably deciding whether his pride could take it–if it sounded too much like charity or if he should leap at it. As I stared unseeingly at Black Leader’s pixelled ass, I realised with a start that Kylo was waiting for me to say something. He was waiting for my cue.

«Aren’t those gift packs supposed to be for only two people?» I asked, as my mind did what it was used to–took the problem at hand and looked for every possible weak spot.

I was practical to a fault, sometimes. And that seemed to be exactly Ishtar’s opinion, as she huffed in her microphone.

«It’s for families - she replied, a bit hurriedly - Up to four people. Someone gave it to my father, and he gave it to me.»

I frowned.

«I thought you said it was only you and your father, that you were an only child…?»

What was wrong with me? My brain was running in circles, and thinking straight was just so difficult, almost unbearably so.

_I want to touch you again._

«Well, _yes_ , what that got to do with anything? - Ishtar blurted out, and I couldn’t blame her outburst - They didn’t know. It was just a gift.» Her voice turned coaxing again. «One we could use.»

She was right, of course. I blamed it all on the mission Black Leader had roped me in.

That, and the excruciating need for their touch.

«Of course, yes. I’m sorry, it’s just…» I paused, my voice breaking up. «Ishtar is right. We need to meet again.»

« _Yes_ , finally! - Ishtar sighed, with a relief so thick it almost felt like fur against my skin - _Ishtar is right_ should be the first thing you say every morning when you wake up. That and, _how can I please today the Oncoming Darkness_?»

I snorted, and then snickered, and then I was laughing, a broken, almost painful laugh, as I fought to keep my character going on screen. I would see them again. I would touch them again.

Why hadn’t I thought about it before?

«It works for me. Are you sure we don’t owe you anything, though?»

«Lots and lots of sex» was the prompt, obvious reply. «I’m not letting you go until you can’t even walk straight out of the door.»

I laughed again, and there was something prickling in my eyes as I shook my head.

«We’ll do our best. Right, Kylo?» I chuckled, and only then I realised–he hadn’t said a word since we’d dragged that painful admission out of his chest.

There was a thin, fragile silence on the line, stretched to a point that I was almost holding my breath by the time Kylo finally spoke again.

«Yes. I… yes.» He didn’t seem too sure about it, though. «Where should we meet?»

«Wherever, I don’t care - Ishtar replied - You choose.»

«Maybe we could fly to Hannah City?» I proposed, more than a little hopefully. If Kylo couldn’t pay for a flight, meeting in his own home city seemed the best option. Whatever city we chose, Ishtar and I would have to take the plane anyway, so why not simply get to him?

But Kylo didn’t seem particularly taken with the idea.

«No. I’d prefer… somewhere else» he replied, voice slow and uneasy. I felt it then, yet again–that thin, squirmy feeling, as if us and the rest of his life were two concepts that had to be kept cleaved apart as neatly as possible. «Coronet City has a huge airport, and I could get there by bus.»

I didn’t really care if there were direct flights to Coronet City, wherever that was–I would’ve hitch-hiked my way to it, if I’d needed to. Other concerns were more pressing.

«What about the gift pack, Ishtar?» I asked, just as Black Leader slipped out of the ventilation system, my character at his heels.

«What about it?» came the confused, slightly wary reply. I couldn’t really blame her.

«Those things usually have a list of places you can book into» I explained, as I tried to remember how those gift packs worked. I had received one of those, a long time ago, to share with Kevan. I’d exchanged it with the small table and chair that were currently gracing my flat with their presence. «Look at the pamphlet. Is there anything available in Coronet City?»

«Oh! - Ishtar exclaimed, quick and eager - Yes, of course! There is one. Coronet City it is.»

I let my character idle, as Black Leader did whatever he was supposed to be doing with the control panel. She threw a lock of blond hair behind her shoulder, which was an entirely too coquettish gesture for my taste, but surely in line with her skimpy outfit.

«Any preference for the date? - I asked - I don’t have a workplace I need to clock in to, and I can work around my deadlines.» I was far ahead of those, in fact. «You choose.»

«I can ask for some days off at work, no problem» Ishtar immediately replied. «Kylo?»

His answer took a longer moment to come.

«The weekend is the busiest time, for me» he slowly answered, as though each word was being carefully weighted before being uttered. «A few days during the rest of the week would be better. I need to talk to my bosses, though. I’ll let you know.»

«Perfect! - Ishtar exclaimed, the sizzling, honest delight of her voice hitting deep under my skin - You do that, and we’ll book our flights straight away.»

«Shouldn’t you check in with the hotel, first? - I objected, unable to stop working at the problem - See if they have any available room?»

I felt as though I was ruining everybody’s fun, but Ishtar laughed at my remark, cheerful and carefree.

«Oh, they will» she replied, something dark and thin slithering in her voice for a moment. It was gone in a blink, and I shrugged off the thought as a trick of my excited brain.

Later that evening, all lights killed and dead, I stared at the dark ceiling of my tiny flat and remembered their voices, and the feelings lurking just behind. I remembered Ishtar’s sheer enthusiasm and Kylo’s slower, more guarded happiness, and I realised that I hadn’t heard that for a very long time–that I couldn’t point out the last time I’d heard Kylo laugh, or Ishtar sound so genuinely excited. That I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt close to them.

_I want to touch them again._

The words resounded like an echo into the deserted vaults of my mind, distorted and hollow, but deep somehow, and interlaced with true power. I closed my eyes, and I let my mind float back to their hands, to their skin, to a couple of days that felt unbearably far away now. I’d been alive for thirty-one years. It was absurd how much weight two single days carried, against the backdrop of an entire lifespan. But my skin was prickling with it, and I trembled as I felt the phantom touch of big hands along my calves, surprisingly gentle, and slender fingers twisting my nipples, unrelenting to the point of cruel. I could feel my heartbeat between my thighs, walloping and rooted deeply inside my flesh, and goosebumps along my spine.

In the dark, remembering their faces was dramatically, painfully easy–not as I was used to see them now, blurry and far-away, but as they’d been, close enough to touch. I cupped myself through my shorts, seeing behind close lids Kylo’s face, eager and slightly crooked and terribly endearing, as he bent over to suck my nipple into his mouth.

I exhaled, loud and trembling, feeling the memory of that wet touch on my skin, the slight pressure of teeth. Remembering the way he’d looked up at me, brown eyes wide and uncertain, searching for some reassurance in my face as I stroked his cheek. The way his lovely skin had blushed, up to his huge ears, burning against my palm.

 _«That’s good, she likes it»_ I heard Ishtar saying, voice thick and irresistible like honey-coated poison, as I sank my fingers between the hot folds of skin, through the thin layer of my shorts. The touch against my clit ricocheted through my body like a shot, and I rocked my hips against it, the hard knuckle of my folded thumb digging in sensitive flesh.

It wasn’t something I did often–for years, it’d been nothing more than a chore, something to be taken care of as quickly and efficiently as possible. I could go on for months without even the slightest need to bring myself off, my body a thing to be kept healthy and supple enough, not to be coddled or used for my own pleasure. I was just as disjointed from it as I was from anyone else.

The convention, as it’d done with anything else, had changed that. After I’d come back, I would touch myself almost daily. I would push my fingers inside as I remembered fucking Ishtar with my tongue, or stretching my mouth around Kylo’s cock, and it would be exactly that feeling -the heady feeling of giving them pleasure, of bringing them off- that would tip me over. I would feel the sting of the stretch, and remember the careful way Ishtar had opened me up, the indescribable sensation of being filled to the brim as Kylo pushed inside. I would come shivering all over my own fingers, heart racing and locks of blond hair clinging to my forehead, and I would feel close to them yet again, isolated in our little bubble, blissfully fenced in to keep the world at bay.

As the weeks had gone by, and the gulf between us had started to widen, the call of my flesh had dwindled accordingly. But that evening, as I heard in my mind the echoes of their voices, as I tasted on my tongue the excitement rolling off of them like an electric discharge, I felt that unfamiliar, prickling need, sizzling with the same magnetic charge that Kylo and Ishtar seemed to give off like static energy. I was unbearably hot between my legs, and as I reached under my short and pressed between my folds, skin against skin, I also realised with breathless surprise how wet I was, how tension and need were coiling low into my belly like a spring.

 _I want to touch them again_ , I thought, over and over, so many times that the words became tangled and devoid of meaning in my mind, but the feeling that burnt just behind remained bright and blinding, like the outline of a thunderbolt. I pushed my shorts down to my knees, giving myself more room to work, and I flickered a thumb across my clit before reaching lower between my folds. I circled my entrance with impatient fingers, and I bit back a groan as I sank two of them in to the knuckle. I was tight, after more than two months, and I’d been slacking–but I was going to see them again, to kiss them again, and the idea of fucking them again skated under my skin like a shiver.

I took a deep breath as I brought back a memory, of Ishtar laying on her back while Kylo pounded into her. He always looked a little lost when he was inside of us, as though he had no idea what he was doing, or how he got there, and the feeling alone was so overwhelming that it sent him spinning, but the dazzled awe in his eyes was impossible to mistake. His head had been bowed, short dark hair framing his huge bright-red ears, as he panted harshly through parted lips. He’d been sitting on his heels, Ishtar’s ass resting on the top of his thighs, hips snapping over and over. His hands had been holding on Ishtar’s sides hard enough to bruise, fingers biting into her flesh until they’d left dark imprints of their shapes–which would horrify him, later on, and delight Ishtar to no end. Ishtar had been grasping at the coverlet, pulling fistful of fabric off the bed, skin reddened on her beautiful face. Her little breasts had bounced at every thrust, nipples rippling, and as I watched mesmerized Kylo’s thick cock disappear inside of her, I hadn’t been able to hold back. I’d reached down, parting her folds with two fingers to expose her glistening opening, her red, swollen clit. The groans I’d ripped out of them, when I forced a finger alongside Kylo’s cock, had been _deafening_.

Yanking at the sheet, I trembled at the absolute power of that sound–at the strangling knowledge that I’d been decupling their pleasure, that I’d made them happy. It was intoxicating, and I felt my fingers skid on drenched skin, as my thumb mercilessly worked my clit over and over and two of my fingers twisted steadily into my opening. But it wasn’t enough. With a groan, I turned on my belly, propping myself on shaking knees as I reached out for the pillow with my free hand. The other stayed where it was–the third finger smarted, as I forced it in alongside the others, but the sting was washed away as I ground my clit against the heel of my hand. I groaned into the pillow, as Kylo’s shocked, wide-eyed face floated back behind my shuttered eyelids, staring at my finger fucking into Ishtar together with his latex-covered cock.

 _«Fuck, Ni!»_ Ishtar had shouted, then, high and shrill and as powerful as a hurricane. _«Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop oh fuck this is amazing-»_

Her voice had melted into a loud, high-pitched wail, as I pressed my thumbnail just under her clit and flicked at it, brutal and rough. Ishtar had come all over us with a bone-deep shake, limbs locking up as her feet kicked out. I’d kept stroking her clit through it, fucking her together with Kylo until he came with a deep, trembling groan. I’d moved aside then, just as he collapsed over her, and I’d distractedly scratched Kylo’s nape with lazy fingers while they recovered.

It was the memory of Ishtar’s wail and Kylo’s helpless groan that did it. I was moaning into the pillow as it hit me–a wave of pleasure so deep and unrelenting that I whined into it, shaking on my knees as I rolled my hips, fucking myself frantically on my own fingers and thrusting my clit against the heel of my hand. It seemed to last forever, skating along my arched spine like electricity, and, when it left me, it felt as though those two months of loneliness and sadness and insurmountable distance were gone with it. As I crashed on the mattress, exhausted and trembling, muscles aching and heart pounding, I felt cleansed. I felt myself again, or that version of myself that could be close to Ishtar and Kylo, that could touch them and be touched in more ways than one, instead of hiding behind forbidding ramparts.

I panted into the pillow until my breath slowed down, and that was how I fell asleep–sex still cradled in my palm, shorts tangled around my knees and the sounds of their broken moans echoing in my dreams.


	6. Part VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, just as promised: the new chapter, right for Christmas! I hope you’ll like it, especially since it’s the last one before a looooong string of shameless porn.
> 
> On a side note: I’ve left Tumblr, but you can find me on Twitter ( [Come to say hi!](https://twitter.com/nekhen2/) ). As usual, I’m not going to be particularly active, but since Twitter seems to be more immediate than Tumblr, I might actually use it more. So, if you’d like to get news about my stories every now and then, feel free to give it a look.
> 
> And now, to the story!

 

 

The trip took us about a week to organize. Kylo had to require permission for a short holiday from all three of his workplaces, and even if he said nothing about it, it was clear to see that it wasn’t an easy task. His mood went down crashing halfway through it, even if he was obviously trying his best to hide it, and he ended up disappearing for days on end. When he eventually resurfaced again, it was the end of October, and he tiredly informed us that he got some time off towards the middle of November. It was nothing much -it was only three days, from Monday to Wednesday, and he still had to work on Monday morning before taking the bus and on Wednesday evening after coming back home-, but it was enough. Ishtar confirmed that her gift pack covered exactly that amount of time anyway, and that she would take care of booking the hotel and sorting out that side of the trip.

Once that was in order, the only thing left to do was to coordinate Kylo’s bus with both our flights. Despite being so close to another major metropolitan area such as Kylo’s hometown, Coronet City was the chief urban centre of its own federal state. Just as Kylo had promised, it was equipped with its own international airport, and there were plenty of direct flights connecting the metropolis with both Galactic City and the small airport not far from Starloft. The boring flight routine would take both Ishtar and me about half a day to reach our destination, but that only meant that we wouldn’t have to wait long for Kylo to join us, since he had to work throughout the morning.

As we slowly entered into November, everything was booked and ready, and the only thing left to do was wait.

Those last few weeks were spent in a strange, charged atmosphere. Kylo was mostly offline, to the point that I had a sneaking suspicion he was avoiding us, while Ishtar seemed to find the relatively short interval even more frustrating than the almost three months that had come before it. She was either snappish or feverishly enthusiastic, when not both at the same time, and when she wasn’t playing online as an obvious mean to distract herself, she was describing either what she missed about our bodies or what she meant to do to us the minute we were within range–mostly to me, since at the third mention of his cock Kylo had found something extremely interesting to do very suddenly and very, very far away from his computer.

As for me, the revelation that I _wanted_ to be close to them, to be with them, was enough. It didn’t matter how much I’d drifted off during those long three months–it wasn’t too late for me to find my way back. And even if I didn’t know what was real anymore -the people I’d met that summer night or those I’d been talking to ever since-, at least I’d have the chance to find out. It was strange to realise that I was a little afraid of the answer, but I didn’t mind the wait.

Whether we were ready for it or not, however, the second Monday of November eventually arrived. It was such a short trip that I didn’t bother to pack much–I threw a change of clothes and some clean underwear into my old cabin luggage, small and battered as it was, while I stashed my personal effects and my tablet in the well-worn leather strap-bag that my uncle had given me almost two decades before. I debated whether to take my laptop with me as well, but eventually I decided against it. I doubted I could get much work done, if anything worked out, and I still had my tablet if it didn’t. I’d uploaded some pieces I was supposed to edit on it, which would’ve been more than enough to keep me occupied during both flights and the entirety of the trip, if it’d come to that. It wasn’t a possibility I really wanted to linger on, but I was too practical not to take it into consideration–even if a small, sentimental part of myself felt as if I was betraying them by just entertaining the thought.

The sky was heavy and overcast, as my plane touched the ground of Coronet City. It was a little after two in the afternoon in local time, but it felt like five o’clock to me–I’d been up since dawn to reach the airport in time, and I’d always disliked the tedious embarking routine. I loved flying, though, and I’d done very little work during my trip, as I’d spent more time staring out of the window than at my tablet.

The air was bracing, as I stepped out of the airport. Ishtar wasn’t supposed to arrive before another half hour, so I bought a cup of coffee and rolled my luggage outside, standing in my warm dark coat and watching people passing by. I balanced my steamy cup over a bench and took a thick brown scarf out of my bag, tucking it in the neckline of my coat before donning a pair of fingerless brown gloves. I’d been sweating through my pull as I waited in line for my plane, that morning, but the weather there was more unforgiving. I retrieved my cup and blew over the rim, before talking a sip. The coffee was strong and rich, but the flavour was mitigated by a healthy dose of milk and sugar. I tried to keep my sugar intake to a minimum, but I’d never developed a taste for bitter drinks.

The coffee was long gone, by the time Ishtar’s flight finally landed. I threw the empty cup in a bin and walked back inside, waiting in the lounge with my luggage in tow. I didn’t know what to think. I’d sent both of them a text as soon as my plane touched the ground, but I got no reply, and being so close to see them again now felt almost surreal. It’d been so long. I didn’t know what I was going to see, what I was going to feel. For a moment, as the other passengers of Ishtar’s flight milled about, everything felt slightly out of focus–as though I was staring at the crowd from a crooked point of view, somewhere beside my own body, witnessing at the unfurling of the events with the dispassionate gaze of an outsider.

Then, a snowy head of hair peeked out of the crowd, and the world came screeching to a halt.

It felt strange, and jarring, seeing Ishtar in person after so long. I’d got so used to the wonky perspective of a webcam that her figure looked somewhat wrong while she daintily picked her way through the corridor, as though my eyes were having difficulties rearranging themselves to real-world proportions after staring at a screen for so long. Ishtar looked at the same time too big and too small, the entirety of her body crashing with the half-figure I was used to seeing in my laptop, and her frame seeming even shorter and lither against the backdrop of the other passengers. She was dressed all in black, of course, with an elegant black coat flaring up at her waist and covering her to her knees, where it met a pair of polished black boots. Her long hair was tidily pinned back in a cascade of little white braids, which showered over her shoulders and trailed down to her arms.

Ishtar clearly hadn’t seen me yet, so I was able to steal a little moment just to take her in, reconnecting the person I was seeing to the girl I’d been talking to for three months and the girl I’d kissed and touched so long ago that it felt more and more like a dream. But it didn’t last. When the steady stream of passengers thinned out, she was able to spot me as well, and a huge brilliant smile broke free on her face. It hit me like a punch in the guts, as Ishtar sped up her pace and almost rushed to me, high-heeled boots clicking steadily on the fake marble of the pavement.

There was such a pure, sincere happiness painted all over her face as she approached me, that for a second I was hauled back to another airport, to another time–to the last kiss she’d given me, to the last tangible proof that she was right there with me, that she was real. That she was close enough to touch.

Then I thought nothing at all, as she let go of her luggage and threw her arms around my neck, dragging me down for a tight hug as she rested her cheek against mine. She smelled of something spicy and vaguely sweet, and the minute braids in which she’d tied up her hair slipped through my fingers as I reached around her waist and held her close.

«It was about fucking time» Ishtar grumbled in my ear, but she didn’t seem in any rush to let me go, as she played with a strand of my hair. «You are never, _ever_ to make me suffer like that again.»

«I’m sorry» I murmured, because I didn’t know what else to say. We might’ve drifted apart during those longs months, but our bodies were just the same, and my skin _remembered_ –and sang, finding Ishtar’s. I closed my eyes, rubbing my cheek against hers and breathing her in.

«Forgiven» Ishtar whispered, and that was all the warning I got. Before I could say another word, Ishtar tore herself away from my tight hold and smashed her lips against mine. Our teeth clacked almost painfully at the impact, but her mouth was just as it’d been during those dreamlike summer days, soft and wet and deliciously yielding, and my heart crashed against my ribcage at the onslaught of memories.

I was still reeling from the kiss that Ishtar, without losing a beat, framed my face between her hands and changed slightly the angle, pushing her tongue between my lips. The world seemed to narrow down to that single point of contact, as I closed unseeing eyes and gasped in the kiss. There was nothing else left–no sound and no touch and no light, only sweet velvety darkness and the long, forceful slide of her tongue along mine. She tasted like something sweet and old and half-forgotten, like sex and thunder and a worn-out memory. She felt like bones and skin and fur sheathing a blade. And she kissed like a ravenous beast, savage and hungry and all-consuming.

She tasted like Ishtar, and she felt like Ishtar, and she kissed like Ishtar.

_Ishtar. Ishtar. Ishtar._

I could hardly breathe as the past and present collided, and I realised right there and then that it was true, whatever I’d felt months before–it was all true. She was the same Ishtar she’d been back then, and she was the same Ishtar I’d come to know during our time apart. There was no dream and no reality, there was only Ishtar, the fiery lover and the spoiled princess, and both of them were real. And whatever connection we had, withered down to a rivulet during our time apart, burst into a flood as I found the missing piece, the spark that had been smothered throughout the distance.

_Ishtar. Ishtar. Ishtar._

I _grasped_ at her, clenching a fistful of white silky braids in one hand as I grabbed her coat with the other. I pushed back, mouth opening up in a filthy kiss as I pinned her exactly where I wanted her, so close that I could melt into her. I could feel the warmth of her breath on my cheek, the unyielding grip of her hands, the way her fingers were digging in my skin as she held me close, as she held me _there_ , where there was nowhere to go and no past and no present and no future, only the thumping of my fevered heart and the drag of her tongue and the prickling, nipping pressure of her teeth on my lips–

–and the loud scoff of somebody nearby.

It was probably the outraged quality of it that pierced through my hungry haze. I blinked as the world crashed back, bringing back the unwelcome awareness that we weren’t in a secluded room, where no one else could disturb us–but in a busy airport, in the middle of the day, which didn’t exactly afford us the privacy to paw at each other in peace.

The shocking realization startled me enough that I went utterly still, stiffening in Ishtar’s arms. She didn’t look particularly pleased by that new development, pulling back slightly and searching my face with her thick bleached eyebrows set into a deep frown.

«Why did you stop? What’s wrong?» she demanded, hands still firmly clasped over my cheeks.

«We’re in the middle of an airport» I explained, in a hushed whisper. I tried to pull back, but Ishtar didn’t even budge.

«So?»

I sighed. After three months, I would’ve recognized that particularly mulish set of her mouth everywhere. Things were not going the way Ishtar wanted, and she could see no valid reason why.

«There are people here.»

«So?»

«They’re watching.»

«So? Call me when they start masturbating» she scoffed, before lunging again. I had to actually pull my head out of her reach to avoid another thorough kiss, and the groan I got for my troubles was so utterly frustrated that in another occasion I would’ve laughed at her exasperation.

«Why do you hate me? Why are you doing this to me?!» she whined, as she moved her hands to my shoulders and tried to deliver a vigorous shaking.

I chuckled low in my throat, sweetly stroking her face. I’d slackened my grasp, but I’d kept one arm looped around her waist.

«There are people here - I reiterated, hoping against hope that repeating it would get the message across - We can’t just… jump each other that way.»

«So difficult. Always so _difficult_! - Ishtar grumbled, and I almost hoped she would let go before seeing the stony glint of her black eyes - Alright, we’ll do it your way. Let’s go.»

I barely had the time to get my luggage, before Ishtar sized my hand and dragged me along the corridor. The scolding mother, who was still trying to shield her child from us as though we were one step away from losing control and jumping each other all over again, was left behind. She was probably not wrong, knowing Ishtar, but I wasn’t really keen on giving a repeated performance. Other passengers had looked much less put upon by our display, and I didn’t exactly appreciate that either.

«Where are we going?» I asked, staring at Ishtar’s small braids bouncing all over her narrow shoulders. I could feel the grip of her small hand clasped to mine as a ripple, spreading through my body.

«Bathroom» Ishtar replied, without even bothering to turn her head.

It took me an embarrassingly long moment to get her meaning.

«Wait, Ishtar-»

«What?»

«Wait! - I repeated, digging my heels and refusing to be dragged forward - We are _not_ fucking in the bathroom.»

Ishtar whirled on her feet, exasperation painted plainly over her face.

«Why not? It’s going to be two hours before Kylo arrives» she complained, crossing her arms over her chest. «I mean, we need to get the train to reach the city centre, but one hour should be enough. We could kiss some more. I’m not suggesting we eat each other out, I’m sure the bathroom floor will be a disgrace, but there are plenty of things we could do standing.»

She was obviously trying to be understanding, as though she was convinced, deep down, that our shared distaste for dirty floors was the only hang-up in the entire situation.

«That’s… not really the point» I sighed, grabbing her hand and steering her towards the doors. «Come on, the train is this way.»

«But why? I want to see your tits again!» Ishtar moaned, turning another couple of heads in our direction. I did my best to ignore them, soldiering through as I dragged her somewhat unwillingly to the train station. «I could bite your nipples. You like that.»

Which was a piece of information the elderly couple we’d just passed by truly didn’t need to know. But Ishtar wasn’t exactly in an understanding mood, so I threw the only ammunition I had left.

«I don’t want to be late - I said, still following the signs to the underground train station - What if the bus arrives early? I don’t want Kylo to wander around all alone.»

«He’s big enough to take care of himself» Ishtar grumbled, but there was no bite to it. As she sighed in defeat, I knew I won. «Alright, alright. I’ll give you a pass this time, but no more excuses. We’re fucking the second we close the door of the room behind us, if I have to hit you in the head and tie you both to the bed to do it.»

«You have my permission to knock us out cold and take advantage of us» I chuckled, turning the last corner and taking her to the elevator. Her smile flashed, white and sharp, and my breath caught.

«That’s a dangerous thing to agree to» Ishtar purred, just as the elevator reached us with a ping. A shiver trailed down my spine, as I followed her inside.

 

* * *

 

 

The train ride from the airport to the city centre was strangely uneventful. November wasn’t exactly peak time for holiday trips, and there wasn’t a whole lot of people with the time or the inclination to take a plane in the middle of a Monday afternoon. That meant that the wagon Ishtar picked was practically deserted, with only a young whispering couple and a mother with her son breaking the otherwise identical rows of vacant seats. The isle we chose was at the very end of the carriage, completely isolated from the other passengers, and far enough from the few occupied seats that their hushed voices were almost completely muted. I gestured Ishtar to sit close to the window, but when I went for the seat facing her, Ishtar pushed our luggage away and plumped herself down beside me.

«You don’t care for the view?» I asked, chuckling lowly in my throat as Ishtar pulled my arm out of the way and burrowed against my side. She was warm and soft in a way that made my heart ache, like the phantom touch of battered memories.

«It’s concrete and then trees and then more concrete - she grumbled, wiggling about until she was settled to her satisfaction, with my arm around her shoulders - Not exactly a Perseid meteor shower.»

«Mmmh» I sighed against her hair, without even bothering to reply. Ishtar rested her head against my clavicle, closing her eyes and letting the steady rattling of the train underneath our feet lull us into some sort of relaxed, sleepy silence.

There was nothing requiring our immediate attention, nothing beyond the painfully warm points of contact between our bodies, and we’d talked more than enough during the last months. Talking had been the only thing we could do, then, but nothing stood between us now. The wagon was so warm and quiet that it allowed me to direct all my attention to how her lithe shoulders felt under my arm, to the delicate scent of her hair, to the ridges and hollows pressed by her thin braids against my cheek. I’d closed my eyes at some point, and the world had shrunk back even more, my heart beating at the same rhythm of her warm breath against my throat.

It was a quiet trip, livened up only by the occasional crawling of Ishtar’s hand up my thigh. She would stifle a grumble against my skin every time I stopped her from reaching under my coat, but the silence was otherwise absolute, and addictive. I was loath to break it, but eventually we reached the city centre. I extricated myself from Ishtar’s death grip and dragged us both out into the cold. Ishtar seemed completely unfazed by the harsh change in temperature, but I was quick to slip back into the scarf and the fingerless gloves I’d taken off while on the train.

Ishtar eyed my brown gloves doubtfully, as we rolled our luggage out of the train station and towards the nearby bus station.

«I don’t know if you’re trying to make some kind of statement with those, but it’s the wrong statement - Ishtar said with a little frown, wrinkling her nose in distaste - They’re hideous. You’re aware of that, yes?»

I gazed down at my free hand, flipping it one side and the other and looking for what was clearly offending Ishtar’s delicate sensibilities, but I came up with nothing. My gloves seemed perfectly alright to me.

«What’s wrong with them? They’re functional. I can use my phone and my tablet while keeping my hands warm.»

Ishtar’s sigh had a defeated quality to it, as we entered the bus station. It was nothing more than a rectangular open hall, with a huge ticket office occupying an entire wall. It was littered with people, either milling about or sitting on low metallic benches, but it was warm enough. The bright timetable hanging from the wall informed us that we had still a half hour to wait before Kylo’s bus would arrive.

«See? - Ishtar grumbled, for once with a voice low enough not to scar permanently every single soul in hearing distance - Plenty of time for some play in an airport bathroom.»

Pretending not to hear, I pushed her towards a couple of free seats on a crowded bench and went to get some coffee from a nearby vending machine. When I came back, I found Ishtar glaring at her seat as though she was trying to figure out exactly how it worked, then promptly flopped herself down with a sigh.

«Here. No milk, no sugar.» I smiled, as I handed her a steamy cup. «I remembered.»

«You’re making extremely difficult for me not to forgive your haunting fashion sense» Ishtar mumbled, her words belied by the little smile tugging at her lips. Her black eyes were decked out in enough smokey make-up to last me for a month, but the delicate pink hue of her lipstick made her mouth look deceitfully soft.

I replied with a low chuckle, and we sat side by side on the discoloured metal bench, whispering to each other as the clock ticked by. The station was nowhere big enough to house an internal parking, and half-empty bus stands had been tidily laid out  in the adjoining courtyard on the other side of the building. Two walls out of four were nothing more than giant reinforced windows, equipped with sliding doors, which allowed me to watch the coming and going of one busy bus after the other as the leaden sky gradually darkened.

The line of lampposts circling the bus parking was just starting to light up, by the time Kylo’s bus was due. I threw our empty cups into the bin and donned both scarf and gloves, before following Ishtar outside.

The temperature had dropped even further, following the setting sun, and cold crept over my gloveless fingers. Seeking out some warmth, I sank my hands into the deep pockets of my jacket. Ishtar clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, sneaking her arms around my waist and snuggling tight against my side.

«My poor Jedi, I forgot that you live in a jungle - she chuckled, looking up at me with shining eyes - Is that better? I wouldn’t want Kylo to get here only to find a Jedi-shaped popsicle.» I snickered, as her lips took a wicked twist. «Though we could always lick you until you melt, if the worst were to come.»

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. Ignoring the other passengers, I bent down to kiss her sweetly on the mouth, sifting my gloveless fingers through her braided hair. I tasted coffee on her tongue, strong and bitter, and I brushed her lips in a light farewell kiss before straightening up.

We were still snuggling each other close, as a string of buses came to a halt in front of us and poured out a stream of passengers. It was almost five o’clock, which I guessed meant rush time for commuters, but I didn’t think we’d have problems to spot a tall head of black hair amongst the tired daily travellers rushing home after work.

I was right. As one of the buses released its last passengers, I spotted a mop of black hair over an unnecessary long torso, and pointed it to Ishtar.

«That’s Kylo!» I said, with some sort of breathless chuckle in my voice that surprised me enough to make me stiffen in Ishtar’s arms. Ishtar didn’t seem to take notice, using my body as a prop to raise herself over the sea of commuters.

«Here he is!» she shouted, finally spotting him. Before I could say anything, she was out of my grip and rushing through the dwindling stream of passengers. She’d forgotten her luggage in her excitement, and I chuckled lowly to myself as I took both our handbags and rolled them forward.

The bus parking was almost empty by now, and I could pinpoint the exact moment Kylo saw us–the precise instant his eyes widened, and his back went rigid, and he stilled with one feet on the pavement and one on the asphalt as Ishtar came crashing down on him.

«Catch me!» she shouted, high enough to reach me loud and clear, and Kylo had barely the time to dump his shuffle bag on the ground before he got an armful of Ishtar. Her impressive leap had landed her straight at Kylo’s waist, and she wasted no time to secure her thighs over his hips as she looped her arms around his neck for support. Kylo stumbled under her assault, but he managed to keep his balance.

«Fucking finally» she laughed, and my heart clenched at how deliriously happy she sounded. Her braids looked almost golden in the electric lights, by now brighter than the setting sun, and they rolled over her shoulders as Kylo awkwardly wound an arm under her ass to support her. He didn’t seem to know what to do with the other one, which twitched once or twice in some sort of aborted gesture but eventually fell back to his side.

If Kylo didn’t know what to do, Ishtar had no doubts whatsoever. Kylo had barely regained his balance that Ishtar smashed their mouths together, and I was close enough that I could see his tall frame waver under the onslaught. I shook my head in sympathy–I knew perfectly well what dealing with Ishtar’s ravaging kisses meant, and I’d never had to face the challenge of keeping her up in the air at the same time.

They were still deep in their kiss, when I stopped in front of them. I wasn’t in any rush to disturb them. We’d always been at our happiest locked up together, and as I looked at them holding onto each other I realised that I hadn’t just missed them, but I’d missed that too–the picture they cut, as they smiled into the kiss. Ishtar had woven one of her hands in Kylo’s thick black locks, and Kylo had eventually settled for placing his free hand on Ishtar’s back, sweet and tentative, keeping her close. Ishtar’s flared skirt had ridden up from her knees to almost her hips, baring her hose-covered thighs to the view, and the shiny polish of her knee-high boots seemed to gleam against the dark blue of Kylo’s jeans. I could feel a strange, almost liquid peace spreading throughout my chest as I took them in, and I realised, with a little start, that there was a soft smile on my lips that I couldn’t dislodge.

It was Kylo the first to pull away. A boy not older than sixteen had passed them by, chatting loudly at his phone, and his voice had been enough to startle Kylo back to the present–and to the fact that they weren’t alone in a hotel room, but out in the open, where everyone could see them. The abrupt interruption dragged a vexed grumble out of Ishtar’s throat, but she refused to be lowered down, holding tight on Kylo’s neck.

He was shyly trying to dodge another savage kiss, plump wet lips looking almost glossy in the lamplights, when his unfocused gaze found on me. The way his muscles seemed to lock up, quickly and almost violently, was impossible to miss, and I felt something ugly flutter in my stomach as he stiffened up in Ishtar’s arms. The hand he was keeping on her back fell down, and he instinctively shifted her body to his side, so that she was perched on one of his hips as he faced me.

Sensing the mood shift, Ishtar relented slightly in her quest to devour him alive, and pulled back enough to give us some space. The tight grip she was keeping on his neck slackened, and while she was still clutching for balance at his shoulder, she let the other hand slide down to his chest, playing with the lapels of his leather jacket. I was frankly impressed by her restrain–to be completely honest, I was expecting her to go straight for his pecs.

The sky was darkening quickly, and Kylo’s eyes looked as black as Ishtar’s in the dimming light. His face was completely shuttered, with a deep frown burrowing between his eyebrows and his plump mouth pulled down into an unhappy pout. He started to chew on his bottom lip, as his gaze fell to the ground.

«Ni» he muttered, standing awkward and uneasy on the deserted sidewalk, as though he was fighting the deep-rooted instinct to hunch his shoulders, making himself as small as possible to scamper off unseen in the darkness. Ishtar’s piercing eyes were shifting from me to Kylo, uncomprehending and slightly displeased, as though she didn’t particularly care for the situation, but she was willing to back down and let us sort it out on our own. At least for now.

It took me a long confused moment, but eventually a thought dawned on me–Kylo was afraid. And while Ishtar had pretty much jumped him the moment he’d stepped foot on the asphalt, I’d hung back, taking time to regroup before facing him. And after those long months spent drifting apart, Kylo didn’t know what to expect.

In retrospective, it’d been incredible arrogant of me to think that I was the only one able to feel the rift spreading between us–arrogant, and embarrassingly short-sighted. I’d taken for granted that neither of them was sensitive enough to catch me drifting, but I’d been wrong. Kylo’s eyes, as he looked up from the ground, were wary, and his expression painfully guarded. He flinched when I stepped forward, and I was shocked by how deeply that aborted lurch back had cut me.

I caught myself frowning, as I searched his face. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but memories were rioting inside my mind, and I needed to _know_ –I needed to understand whether the Kylo Ren I remembered really existed or if he was just a figment of my imagination, a feverish summer night dream withered and swallowed by the mulish, angry boy that had taken his place. And as I looked up at him, really _looked_ , the same strange feeling I’d experienced with Ishtar burst in my chest like a supernova.

_I know you._

My bones, my blood, my skin _sang_ , as bits and pieces of memories slotted finally into place–memories of touches and kisses and trembling flesh, and memories of resentful eyes reflecting the bluish light of a computer screen. The shattered fragments of Kylo that my mind had been jealously hoarding finally seemed to blend together, as my gaze lingered on the ridge of his cheekbones, oh his smooth forehead, on the huge ears peeking through longish black locks, on the straight line of his nose and on his plump lips. But it was the eyes that held the kernel of the boy I knew as Kylo Ren–the syrupy dark pool of his eyes, and the ever-shifting sentiments that flitted through them. Uncertain, beseeching eyes, alight with intelligence or blazing with fury–or hazy and unfocused, as he owlishly blinked them open after an orgasm.

 _I see you, and I_ know _you._

There were sharp angles jutting out the soft sweet core now, and he was neither the pliant boy we’d met that summer night nor the stubborn child we’d got to know during the last few months, but a kaleidoscopic jumble of the two. Just as Ishtar was. Just as I was, I guessed, to their eyes. Or so I hoped.

An alien softness swept over me, as I stepped forward and slowly took off my gloves, stuffing them in my pocket before lifting one of my bare hands to Kylo’s cheek. His breath faltered as I brushed his jaw, but he didn’t flinch back, he didn’t move–he stood there, perfectly still, like a wild animal poised between fight and flight.

I caught myself smiling, a private sort of smile, as my fingers trailed along his cheek until my hand was cupped around it. It felt as though I was cradling more than just his cheek, as Kylo’s eyes fluttered close, but I chased away the thought. I’d never been that sentimental, and it was ridiculous to start at thirty-one. But his cheek felt like a cherished old memory against my palm, warm and devastatingly vulnerable, shaved so closely that the skin was incredibly soft under the pads of my fingers. I swept my thumb against his cheekbone, and slotted my middle and ring fingers in the sweet dip behind his jaw. Every ridge and every hollow and every mole were exactly where I remembered them.

It was a soft, tentative touch, but it was enough. The tension seemed to seep out of Kylo as though my skin was soaking it up. He’d been holding himself so stiff that the violent unlocking of his muscles was dramatic to witness–clenched body prepped for a blow abruptly loosening up, as Kylo realised that no pain was forthcoming. His warm breath tickled the sensitive skin of my inner wrist as he exhaled, deep and shaken and almost painfully relieved.

«Hello, Kylo» I murmured, low and sweet, and Kylo held my hand to his face as he rubbed his cheek against my palm and then shifted just enough in my loose grip to kiss my palm. His eyes were liquid and slightly lost when he blinked them open, and my heart clenched at the onslaught of memories.

_There you are._

_Both of you._

I turned to Ishtar, still perched on Kylo’s hip, and I spied a soft smile on her lips. She looked as though she was exactly where she wanted to be, nimble fingers sneaking under Kylo’s jacket to pet his sternum as she allowed us our moment. I knew Ishtar enough, by now, to understand how difficult it was for her to hang back, and I appreciated the effort she was putting into being discreet. I stroked the hand she’d placed on Kylo’s chest, as Kylo nuzzled my palm.

His eyes were painfully familiar, as I shifted the hand he was holding and Kylo looked at me through thick dark lashes.

«You’ve let your hair grow» I said, tucking a lock behind his ear. His black hair had got long just enough to cover the tips of his ears, framing his nape. Kylo kept it smoothed back in a wavy mass, but rioting locks kept slipping free, brushing his temples and getting into his eyes. The wintry winds and our petting did nothing to help.

«It’s not much» he mumbled, chasing after my palm as though he wanted to hide his face behind it. «I liked how it felt. Last time. When you played with my hair. I thought, you know. Maybe, the longer it was, the better it’d feel.»

«You are so sweet» Ishtar cooed, promptly threading the fingers of her free hand through the loose black locks brushing his nape. Kylo’s breath faltered against my skin, and a telling blush spread beyond the portion of his face that was not hidden behind my hand.

«’m not» he grumbled, eyes darting over my face, before flitting away.

«Of course you aren’t - Ishtar laughed, delicate hand fondly petting the soft strands of black hair - You are death and terror. Now, kiss her and let’s go. It’s cold and it’s been three months and you can either take me to the hotel or I’ll tear your clothes off right here. And I’m talking to the both of you.»

I chuckled at the pointed look that had come with that, and the affronted glare I got for my troubles did not help in the slightest.

«I’m serious!» Ishtar grumbled, pink lips downturned in an attractive pout. I squeezed her hand, as Kylo hid his burning face completely behind my palm–or, at least, he tried to.

«I know you are. That’s what makes it hilarious» I grinned back, tracing the elegant arc of Kylo’s brow with my fingertips. Kylo pressed his lips against my palm one last time, before begrudgingly letting go. I treaded my fingers through his thick hair, testing out the softness of his messy curls, as I stood up on tiptoes and kissed his lips.

The touch echoed through my memories–soft and lingering and heart-wrenchingly sweet. Kylo’s mouth was pliant against mine, lips plump as I kissed them over and over, tongue barely teasing his bottom lip before retreating. Kylo sighed in the kiss, deep and shuddering, slumping against me. He was still holding my hand to his face as I pressed up into his free side, sliding my tongue into his mouth.

Kylo’s breath was warm and uneven as it hit my skin, and his tongue pressed back into a kiss that was clumsy and over-eager, but devastatingly endearing. I murmured into it, pleased and unbearably fond, and I let Ishtar’s hand go as I framed his face.

Predictably, the next thing I felt was something rummaging around the back of my coat, and a few seconds later a hand groping at the meat of my ass.

«Exactly as I remembered it» Ishtar whispered into my ear. I shivered at the warm puff of her breath, and mumbled into the kiss as she traced the shell of my ear with the tip of her tongue before nipping sharply at my lobe. She was leaning heavily into me to keep balance, especially since she was taller than me, perched as she was on Kylo’s hips, and her knee was digging into my side as she fondled my ass.

When I felt a finger slip between my thighs, teasingly close to my opening even through the thick texture of my jeans, I decided that the kiss had gone on long enough. My breath stuttered, as a shudder crackled down my spine and hunger pooled into my belly.

«Alright, time to go» I declared, pulling abruptly away from Kylo’s beseeching lips and dislodging Ishtar’s teasing fingers. Kylo stumbled forward, taking a moment to realise that the kiss had ended. There was a light frown on his forehead, as he regained balance.

«Finally, let’s go!» Ishtar cheerfully agreed, without hinting in the slightest to be about to jump off her comfortable perch. Kylo didn’t seem to know what was exactly expected of him in that situation, but he was so eager to please that his knee-jerk reaction was to go along with it, carrying Ishtar like he would with a hump that had happened to sprout from his hip overnight.

I rolled my eyes at the both of them, tugging at Ishtar’s arm.

«Get off him, and then we can go.»

«You got it all wrong, Ni - Ishtar argued, hands securely fastened around Kylo’s neck and an offended expression etched all over her face - I want to go to get him off.»

I sighed, as Kylo readjusted Ishtar’s weight so that he could hide his burning face into her shoulder. He was using both his hands to keep her upright now, and it hit me how small Ishtar was in comparison. Her puffy skirt masked how lithe her body was, and how huge Kylo looked in comparison. Both her calves weren’t as thick as one of his thighs.

«Kylo’s not going to carry you around like a spoiled puddle» I insisted, tugging more forcefully at her arm. I didn’t really care about getting attention, but I knew that Kylo would’ve been mortified, and I wasn’t about to abandon him to fend for himself.  «Come on, get off.»

«He doesn’t mind! - Ishtar objected, holding Kylo’s neck even tighter - Right, Kylo?»

I didn’t need to see his face to know how embarrassed he was. Even the yellowish artificial light of the streetlamps couldn’t hide that he was blushing up to the tip of his ears.

« _I_ am the one who minds, it’s embarrassing!» I protested, before taking in her mulish expression and releasing her with a sigh. A change of tactic was obviously needed. «Well - I declared, crossing my arms over my chest - the longer we discuss about this, the longer we stay here instead of getting into the nice hotel room waiting for us. You decide.»

Ishtar’s face crunched up into a disgruntled pout, but as we stood motionless in the deserted bus parking, she seemed to decide that the quickest strategy to get her to the hotel was clearly the best.

«What did fun ever do to you, that you hate it so much?» she grumbled, as she pulled herself off Kylo’s shoulders. «Come on, Kylo. Let me down.»

Kylo did his best to hide it, but relief was radiating from him as he carefully lowered Ishtar back to the sidewalk. Just in case the message hadn’t come across, she threw me a displeased glare, as she straightened her skirt and smoothed nonexistent wrinkles out of her fine black coat.

«You know this city, right, Kylo? - I asked, trying to distract Ishtar from her pique - Which way to the closest tram stop?»

«Tram stop?» Ishtar repeated, with a confused frown. A cascade of braids trailed over her shoulder, as she tilted her head.

«Well, yes - I replied, matching her disconcerted frown - Is the bus better?»

For a moment, Ishtar did nothing but blink slowly, studying me with a strange, bewildered expression, before suddenly snapping out of it.

«…the bus. Yes. To get to the hotel» she said, as though the idea was foreign to her somehow. She fished in her pocket for her phone. «Just a second.»

Amusement smoothed my frown away, as I looked at Kylo peering at Ishtar’s phone from over her shoulders. He looked like a strange weeping willow like that, bending forward because otherwise he was too tall to actually see a thing in the tiny phone Ishtar was holding in her hands.

«Tram’s better» Ishtar eventually decreed, as she turned off her phone and slipped it back into her pocket. I realised only then that she wasn’t carrying a bag–everything she took with her was either in her pockets or in her luggage. «This way.»

Kylo scrambled to pick his duffel bag from the ground, as Ishtar grabbed her roller and led the way. I followed them more slowly, calling them back for tickets as they rushed out of the station. Buying tickets at the automated machines was cheaper than onboard, and even if Ishtar seemed somewhat puzzled by the entire concept, Kylo was obviously relieved that somebody had thought of it. When Ishtar took out a credit card from a pocket cleverly hidden into her coat, gazing tentatively at me as though she was swimming in unfamiliar waters, I took out of my wallet enough coins to buy a ticket for the both of us.

«It looks like you never took a bus or a tram in your entire life» I mused, handing her a ticket. It dawned on me right then and there that I’d never seen Ishtar pay with anything that wasn’t a credit card, even during those days at the convention. Her train ticket had been pre-paid together with her flight, and I’d been the one to suggest it.

Ishtar shrugged, as she stuffed her ticket into one of her pockets.

«It’s your own fault. I’m too horny to think» she answered, way too haughtily for someone who was declaring to be so obsessed with sex to have temporarily forgotten how buses worked.

I replied with a snort, and Ishtar sniffled at my rudeness. Kylo was wearing a loopy little grin, as we followed her out of the station.

The tram lane was close to the train station, although the sheer bulk of the building had hidden it from sight when we last walked that way. It seemed to be a tram terminal, with various lines converging to the same spot, and it took us some time to determine which stop was actually the one we needed. Ishtar turned out to be utterly helpless in the matter, stomping down her foot in frustration when she tried to navigate the difficulties of public transport as though she’d never had to face such problems before. After fifteen minutes of bewildered wandering, when it was becoming clear that we weren’t going anywhere and Ishtar seemed one step away from crying in utter exasperation or gouging out the eyes of some innocent bystander, Kylo and I took the phone out of her hands and dragged her to the right stop. There was a tram idling in the lane, and we managed to jump on it seconds before it closed its door. I gently reminded Ishtar to punch her ticket, while Kylo’s bulking frame cut through the crowd and made space for us and our luggage right behind his back.

It was peak time, and the tram was packed to the brim. Using his height to full advantage, and sporting the most threatening expression of his repertoire on his frowning face, Kylo somehow managed to find the last free corner left on the entire wagon, herding us there. The space was so small that we were forced to lean our backs against the window, squeezed between our luggage and Kylo’s towering frame. He was leaning forward, hands planted on the handrail running beneath the windowpane, effectively crowding us in the tight circle of his arms. I smiled softly at him, as I realized that he was using his bulk to shield us from the rest of the passengers, and Kylo ducked his head shyly.

«Why are there so many people on this thing? It’s unacceptable! - Ishtar grumbled, glaring at everyone unlucky enough to be included in her line of sight - Don’t they have anywhere else to go? Why aren’t they taking their own car?»

«It’s called public transport. The public uses it» I replied, chuckling lowly in my throat. Transports had to be much better organized in her hometown, if she found a full tram at peak time that kind of unconceivable.

My amusement didn’t seem to be appreciated. Ishtar glowered at me, sniffling in blatant outrage.

«Do they have to be so many? Where is everybody even going?!»

«Home, I guess?» I tried, but Ishtar just scoffed at me.

«Please. Why on earth would everyone go home at the same time?!»

I took a pause, as I felt my grin falter into something more confused than amused. I couldn’t tell if she was being serious or just pulling my leg.

«Well, because most workplaces close down at the same time. Offices and so on.»

Ishtar threw me a strange look, staring at me with a dubious frown. Her white hair seemed almost translucent, against the backdrop of Kylo’s black leather jacket.

«Are you sure? That doesn’t sound right.»

I was at a loss. I hadn’t been out in the world much in the last decade, but I was pretty sure things hadn’t changed _that_ much.

«Well, yes?» I replied, looking at Kylo for help, but he wasn’t even listening, busy as he was to stare down everyone who dared even to glance in our direction. He was keeping a dead grip on the handrail at each side of us, and looked about ready to tackle down anyone who came too close.

Ishtar was still watching me with that odd face, when I glanced back at her, but at my bewildered expression her frown smoothed out.

«It doesn’t matter. Really. Whatever» she reassured me with a smile, taking my hand and resting her head against my shoulder. «We’re almost there, and then it’s going to be only us anyway.»

The warmth in her voice settled deep and low in my chest, and I pressed my cheek against her braided hair as the tram clacked by. There were fifteen tram stops before our hotel, and I kept a silent tally, as well as using Ishtar’s phone to track our position. I had little confidence in Ishtar’s abilities to get us there before midnight and at least three entire circuits of the line, and Kylo seemed more invested in growling at unsuspecting passengers than in getting us to our destination. But the way his eyes softened was impossible to miss, as he took us in during a rare moment of distraction from his duty.

«How long?» Ishtar grumbled at some point, using the hand she wasn’t holding me with to play with the lapels of Kylo’s leather jacket, which flapped open in the stifling wagon. The cold weather warranted some heating, but the tram was so full of people that even I was having trouble breathing.

«Three stops. Almost there.»

«How are we even going to move from here? This thing is packed» Ishtar complained, with something in her voice that could almost be mistaken for concern.

«I don’t think we’ll have a problem» I chuckled back, discretely thumbing her knuckles as the tram clanked by. And I was right–as our stop approached, Kylo simply used his bulk to cut a path for us to the doors, and after some manoeuvring we were finally out, stumbling on the sidewalk with our luggage in tow.

The look that Ishtar threw at the crowded wagon, as the doors closed behind us, was the glower of someone ready to level a small city with a nuke.

«Ishtar, are you sure this is the right place?» I asked, frowning slightly as I looked around. We were standing in a lively street, brightened up by a twin row of fancy-looking lampposts, cast in wrought-iron and with their bases delicately shaped into a fantasy of petals. The houses built on either side of the road seemed old, but well-cared for, and the only thing that vaguely resembled an hotel was a monstrosity of white marble and sleek columns, lodged between what looked like a rococo theatre and a forbidding Georgian residence. «I mean, Google map seems confident enough, but I’m not so sure.»

Ishtar’s body was warm and deliciously pliant, as she pressed against my side to peer into the screen of her own phone. She took a quizzical look at the map, before lifting her head and pointing straight at the white monstrosity on the either side of the road.

«That’s the place. Hotel Anthrax.» Ishtar was obviously back into familiar water, and there was a satisfied smile on her face as she took again the lead. I handed the phone back to her, and Ishtar slipped it into a hidden pocket. «I can’t believe we made it. I thought we were gonna die in that horrible thing.»

«Always so dramatic» I chuckled, trailing after her. Kylo came last, as usual, presumably to keep a wary eye on the entire situation.

«The things I do for you» Ishtar scoffed back, and that pretty much closed the argument. The hotel’s frankly oversized framework was towering over us, and it was difficult enough keeping up with Ishtar, that was by now practically jogging forward, even without arguing aimlessly with her.

In silent and disbelieving awe, Kylo and I climbed after her the short staircase that separated the hotel’s heavy mahogany double doors from the street. The entryway was guarded by a sharply-dressed man, with a ridiculous little hat in precarious balance on the top of his head and hands tidily clasped behind his back. The look he gave Kylo and me, as we awkwardly stood in the open colonnade, wasn’t exactly kind. He was obviously wondering what the hell we were doing there, and I was starting to ask myself the exact same question.

Ishtar didn’t seem to share our uncertainty, however. She looked much more at ease there than she had on the tram, as she stared at the doorman squarely in the eye and demanded to be let in. There was something commanding in her straight frame, despite her height–something of the spoiled princess that I’d seen in bits and pieces during the last months, something that took attention for granted. She wasn’t exactly bossy as much as utterly certain of her right to be let inside, as if the alternative was impossible to conceive.

The doorman reacted to her presence, if not to her tone. Of the three of us, she was the only one that didn’t look out of place in the fancy street, in front of those obviously costly mahogany doors. She’d stuck out like a sore thumb on the tram, but she looked right at home there.

«Of course, Miss. Welcome to the Hotel Anthrax» the doorman finally said, opening the door and holding it for us.

«Thank you» Ishtar replied, mechanically polite, rolling her luggage inside. Much more slowly, and with a slight nod for the doorman, I went after her. I didn’t need to look to know that Kylo and his duffle bag were not far behind.

 


	7. Part VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Here I come, with a nice thick chunk of porn (yes, my choice of adjectives was deliberate–I have an awful sense of humour).  
> As some of you might have noticed, I’m trying to keep a semi-regular posting schedule, with a new update roughly every month. Since most of this story has already been written, I hope I’ll be able to stick to it, even if real life is looming kind of bleak over me right now. Hopefully everything will turn out for the best, and I’ll be able to come back soon to my favourite hobby. Aside from this specific series, I have so much more stuff I’d love to write, and it kills me not being able to do so. I love playing with these characters, and I have several different AUs planned for them, aside from the various instalments of _Advanced SW MMORPG_. I hope I will be able to post something new relatively soon.  
>  Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy the reunion! Every comment is incredibly appreciated, and you can find me [here](https://twitter.com/nekhen2/) too.

The hall was just as excessive and exorbitant-looking as the outside. Ishtar’s high heels clicked in a practiced staccato against the mottled marble floor, passing underneath a gigantic crystal chandelier as she headed straight for the concierge. The woman was dressed just as sharply as the doorman outside, but she was much better trained, and her eyes didn’t betray even a flash of surprise as Kylo and I awkwardly reached the huge polished wooden desk she was perched behind.

«Good evening. How can I be of assistance?» she asked in a pleasant voice. Her training was exquisite–she actually sounded eager to help, as though looking after us was her mission in life. Her brown hair was styled in a tight bun, resting on her nape, and her tastefully lined eyes were the perfect measure of friendly.

«I booked a room for three nights» Ishtar said, shooting us a quick glance before standing stiffly in front of the concierge. It was strange enough, but not stranger than anything that had been happening to me since the convention. I felt as if I’d stumbled in the Rabbit’s hole in a moment of distraction, and I’d been trying to find my way out ever since. «The name is Ishtar D’Auban.»

As the receptionist went through the boring check-in routine, I took a look around. The hall was huge, with an open bar in a corner and a cosy-looking waiting lounge, completed with low antique tables, Persian rugs and thickly-padded armchairs. I had no idea how a gift pack could cover a place like that, but as the concierge handed Ishtar her key, I resigned to the fact that gift packs had obviously changed a lot since the last time someone gave me one.

«Welcome to the Hotel Anthrax» the receptionist said, to all of us this time. Kylo’s hand brushed my lower back, and I realized that I’d been unwittingly drifting towards him, as I took in somewhat warily the place we’d ended up to. «We hope everything will be of your satisfaction, but don’t hesitate to call us for anything you need. The staff is at your disposal. We wish you a pleasant stay.»

As the concierge wrapped up her speech with a little flourish of her perfectly manicured hand, a hall porter seemed to sprout out of the marble floor like an evil spirit after a spell. He was as sharply dressed as everyone else, and was wearing the same silly little hat of the doorman.

«Please, let me take your luggage» he said, taking hold of both Ishtar’s handbag and mine with such practiced ease that he was out of range before I could even think of protesting. Kylo’s reaction-time was much better than mine–as another hall porter, seemingly generating from thin air, approached him and his duffle bag with a smile, Kylo’s growled «I’m fine» sent him running away.

The porter that had kidnapped our luggage led us to a lift, blessedly big, and even attempted to some kind of friendly conversation, before Kylo’s ferocious glowering brought that kind of whimsical behaviour to a swift end. The display was enough to make me sigh in exasperation and to send Ishtar into a fit of giggles, while Kylo was gracious enough to look somewhat sheepish when Ishtar swatted at his arm, making the leather crackle.

The lift halted with a ping at the fifth floor, and the porter led the way through a corridor just as sumptuous as the rest of the building. The walls were painted in a delicate shade of lilac, and the violet carpet covering the floor was so clean it looked practically brand new, as though our feet were the first to tread upon it. There was a delicate smell in the air, like lavender, and the light casted by the small flower-shaped chandeliers mounted on the wall was soft and golden.

The walk from the lift was a short one. Our door was thick and well-polished, just like the others, with a shiny 1193 made of brass nailed to it. The porter took Ishtar’s key and unlocked it, going in first to keep it open for us.

«Welcome to your room» he said, as we passed by. Ishtar got in first, obviously inspecting the room to her satisfaction as she went, with me in tow and Kylo as rearguard. The porter came in last, taking our luggage with him.

The room was just as unnecessary luxurious as I expected. The floor was thickly padded in the same violet carpet of the corridor, and the same lilac shade had been used to paint the walls. One side of the room was covered almost entirely by a flat TV-screen, with a little herd of armchairs right in front of it, huddled around a crystal coffee table. An antique liquor cabinet was standing in a corner, close to a huge desk and a varnished wooden cupboard, that the porter showed us to contain a small refrigerator. What the room _didn’t_ seem to have, which was puzzling to say the least, was a bed–but the mystery was promptly solved by the porter, who opened one of the two doors that broke the perfect smoothness of the wall, revealing an enormous bedroom. The other door led to an equally humungous bathroom, equipped with a shower cubicle, a bathtub and a built-in Jacuzzi. That turned the first room, to all intent and purpose, into a cosy, relatively little foyer.

Everything was so excessive that the unreality of the situation was by now skimming ludicrous territory. Kylo looked almost stunned, while Ishtar’s face was the portray of boredom and restless impatience.

After having brought us back to the foyer, the porter went for our handbags, left by the door.

«Where would you like these?» he asked, with the same amiable smile stitched all over his face. Kylo snapped out of his astonishment just in time to make sure with a glare that everyone knew what he thought of all that unnecessary friendliness.

«Here’s fine. You can go» Ishtar replied distractedly, unbuttoning her coat. I arched a brow, and ushered the porter outside. I had the needling suspicion that her patience had finally come to an end, and she would jump us sooner rather than later, whether the porter had managed to get to the door first or not.

«Thank you for your help» I said, reaching for my strap-bag, but the porter stopped me.

«We don’t take tips. Hotel policy» he said, without losing a beat. I frowned in surprise, but the porter’s smile didn’t falter. «Please let us know if you need anything. Enjoy your stay.»

«Yes - I replied - Thank you.»

With a little bow and a parting smile, the porter left. I retrieved our key, still dangling from the keyhole, and I was in the process of closing and locking the door when I heard a muffled sound coming from behind my back. The key-holder clacked noisily against the thick wood as I let it swing, and I wasn’t particularly surprised to see Ishtar’s hands all over Kylo as I turned. She’d shed her coat, throwing it carelessly over one of the armchairs, and was now framing Kylo’s face with her hands as she kissed him deeply. Kylo had folded himself almost in half for the kiss, making the difference between their sizes stand out dramatically. He’d gingerly placed his palms on Ishtar’s hips, spanning the entire girth of her waist between his huge hands, and had closed his eyes shut, so forcefully that his brows were knitted above the ridge of his long nose.

I smiled to myself, as I looked at them. Kylo seemed to know only one way to react to kisses, which was utter abandon, and Ishtar’s rapacious hunger was the perfect counterbalance to his pliability. Ishtar was much smaller than Kylo, but there was an inflexible will to her, built over the confidence of experience and the stubbornness of her whims, and a softness to Kylo, padded by an eagerness to please and a deep-seated, shy sweetness that had been kept so far removed, during those months, that I’d almost forgotten it was there. As I watched Kylo bend for her, so keenly and so beautifully, memories rushed back like a tidal wave, and I felt a pit of undiluted hunger spring wide open, low into my belly.

I licked my lips, as I slowly loosened my scarf and undid the buttons of my coat. There was a row of pegs lodged into the thick wooden door, but I was so distracted that hanging my scarf, coat and strap-bag took a shameful amount of time. Ishtar’s impatient fingers were already tearing Kylo’s black leather jacket away from his shoulders when I was done, and I felt a shiver crackle down my spine like lightening as I spied a flash of tongue between their open mouths. Ishtar’s ruthless need and Kylo’s bashful obedience were striking my core like dissonant keys, violently dissimilar and immensely more effective because of it, and for a moment I just stood there, like a bandoleer stricken by clashing winds, taking them in.

The need to touch, strangely enough, spurred me on. The sheer impact of it left me shacking–it felt as though my body had been asleep for months, and had been electrocuted back to life by the sheer magnetic energy that Kylo and Ishtar seemed to give off like heating coils. Kylo’s open, loopy smile, as I walked up to them and reached for the hand Ishtar was keeping against his cheek, hit me like a freight train. There was such an unguarded happiness, in his eyes, that sank deep into my chest and squeezed my heart.

«Bedroom» I just said, herding them in the right direction. It took them a moment to understand my meaning, especially since Ishtar was taking advantage of the distraction to get Kylo out of his jumper, but then they were going, stumbling as they kissed. Kylo’s jumper, obviously black, was unceremoniously dumped on the floor, and I bent to pick it up as I stayed behind.

Neither of them seemed to be in immediate need of my assistance, so I took some time to hang neatly Ishtar’s coat and Kylo’s jacket onto the pegs. Kylo’s jumper, obviously black, found a place on one of the armchairs, while my combat boots were lined up by the door. The plush carpet felt like a cloud beneath my socked feet, and I wiggled my toes into it as I fished into my strap-bag for the pack of condoms I’d bought that morning.

As I gathered my supplies, Ishtar hadn’t been idle. When I entered the bedroom, I was welcomed by the striking sight of Kylo lying belly-up on the bed, with Ishtar sitting astray his hips and grinding down on his still-clothed cock. She’d managed to unbutton his grey shirt, if not to take it off, and was now busy thumbing his nipples as she stared down at his blushing face. Kylo darted a glance in my direction as I padded in, then promptly looked away, trying to hide his burning cheeks into the dark halo of his hair. Even the tips of his huge ears were bright red.

«I was starting to think we lost you» Ishtar grinned, looking up at me from her perch with a flashing smile as I approached them. I bent down to kiss her, and I shivered as I felt the whispering caress of her fingers along the inseam of my jeans. She pushed her tongue between my lips, and the touch left me dizzy, with the vague impression of having licked Kylo’s taste from her mouth.

«I was getting these» I replied, carefully setting the pack of condoms on the bed. Kylo’s gaze tracked the movement, lingering on the box for a long wide-eyed moment, before swiftly looking away. I saw, more than hear, his sharp intake of breath at a particularly deep rolling of Ishtar’s hips. He was gnawing at his lower lip again, white uneven teeth peeking through, and the sight was so distracting that I realized I was staring only when Ishtar spoke up again.

«Always ready, like a good girl-scout» she chuckled, barely slowing down to pick up the pack of condoms. «Large size, too. She’s taken your measures alright - she snickered, as Kylo’s face heated up in an alarming shade of red - Nothing fancy, but it’ll do in a pinch.»

«Yes - I scoffed, amused against my better judgment as I kneeled at her feet - I couldn’t find anything that size with Vader’s face printed on it.»

Ishtar laughed, letting up her relentless grinding so that I could take off her left knee-high boot. The leather was shiny but incredibly supple, well-worn, and still warm as I slipped it off her delicate foot.

«I’ll get some red glow-in-the-dark condoms next time. A Knight of Ren needs a proper lightsaber.»

I didn’t need to look up the bed to know that Kylo’s face was probably glowing red all by its own right now, but his mortified groan tore a chuckle out of my throat. Since it was right in front of me, I attacked his left combat boot, as Ishtar clicked her tongue.

«None of that, now - she chided him - We’re having fun. There is nothing to be embarrassed about, _especially_ when we’re talking about your dick. It’s a majestic dick.»

I bit the inside of my cheek, hard, to prevent myself from laughing out loud. Kylo whimpered between his teeth in abject mortification, like a wounded animal, and Ishtar grinded hard against his cock in retaliation.

«Leave him be» I chuckled, as I moved to their right side. Ishtar levelled me a pouty glare, as I went for her right boot.

«Well, it _is_ a majestic dick» she insisted, as if someone in the room was doubting it and she felt compelled to defend its honour. «I missed it, you know - she went on, accompanying her words with a pointed, deep roll of her hips that left Kylo gasping - I can’t wait to feel it again inside of me.»

Kylo’s hips shot up at that, as though his cock, whether its owner felt ready or not, was wholeheartedly approving the idea. Ishtar chuckled, riding him like she would a mechanical bull, and dropped the condoms to stroke at his bare chest. In the blink of an eye, she was back to kissing him, hungry and frenzied, and Kylo groaned deep into the kiss as I struggled to get his right boot off as well. I didn’t think we’d be needing our shoes for a while, so I gathered their boots and took them in the foyer. As I lay them close to mine, I realized that Kylo and I were wearing the same kind of shoes, if not the same size. It was a strangely funny thought, I decided, and I chuckled low in my throat as I settled down Ishtar’s high boots as well. I was feeling almost giddy, and I was still grinning to myself as I skipped back to the bedroom. I had an idea in mind, and the last thing I wanted was for them to trip on their discarded shoes and break their necks.

I came back to the bedroom only to discover that Ishtar had made quick work of Kylo’s button-down, which was now hanging precariously on one side of the bed. Her white braids were spilling everywhere, as she grinded down ferociously onto his cock and swallowed in kisses every groan she tore out of his throat. He’d placed his big hands on her thighs, but it looked more like he was hanging onto them for dear life than fondling them.

Ishtar barely reacted as I trailed a hand down her back, pushing her hair out of the way. She was wearing a sleeveless black dress, tight around her chest and flaring up into a billowy skirt under her waist. I found the small latch resting on her nape, hidden underneath a tiny flap, and I lowered the zip to her ass. The dress opened up around her like a flower, exposing the elegant arch of her spine. She wasn’t wearing a bra underneath, so I stroked with wandering fingers her smooth back. The skin was soft and milky-white, and I traced the ridges and bumps of her backbone. As I grazed the hem of her lace panties, I realized with a sharp intake of breath that she was wearing hold-up stockings. I swallowed hard, heart thumping painfully against my ribcage, as I snuck a hand between their bodies and pressed the palm against her soft, flat belly.

«Off» I growled, with a rough voice that I barely recognized. «Come on.»

«Why?» Ishtar grumbled, even as she was pushing herself up. Kylo looked dazzled and obscenely debauched underneath her, with tangled black hair and swollen, shiny lips. «Do you want to go first?»

I laughed at that, breathless and ridiculously happy.

«No, I have an idea. Come on» I chuckled, pulling her off. Ishtar seemed curious enough to let me pry her off Kylo, who was by now sporting quite a few red hickeys on his neck. He forced himself up on his elbows, as I helped Ishtar out of her dress. I tried to fling it on the bed, but Ishtar’s wandering hands were throwing my aim. They were warm, and felt amazing against my belly as she nipped at my jaw. I’d planned to help Kylo out of his pants too, but Ishtar’s surprise attack was relentless, and I had no choice but capitulating.

«I’m afraid you’ll have to get out of those all by yourself, Kylo» I laughed, hoping that he understood a word I’d been saying, muffled as I was by the jumper that Ishtar was trying to get over my head. The piece of clothing had barely landed on the floor that Ishtar was already attacking my bra, flinging it contemptuously away before cupping my breasts.

« _Finally_ , I can’t believe you held out on me for three fucking months!» Ishtar growled, dark eyes full of hunger as she dig a thumb into one of my nipples. My laugh chocked up into a wheezy groan, as Ishtar bent her head to suck the other inside her mouth, pressing her tongue against tender skin.

I sank a hand into the thick forest of Ishtar’s thin braids, keeping her head in place, as I glanced at Kylo through heavy lids. He was bracing himself on fully-stretched arms now, staring at us with wide eyes that looked even darker on his flushed face. His shiny, plump lips were ajar, and his blush was spread down to almost his nipples, making the constellation of dark moles on his chest stand out like obsidian shards. The outline of his cock was perfectly visible throughout his jeans, and even though it looked hard enough to hurt, he was making no move to slacken his pants–or to do anything that wasn’t blatantly staring at us.

I sighed, shuddering as I felt the edge of teeth pressed against the sensitive tip of my nipple. Ishtar was rolling the other between her fingers, and the double touch trickled down my spine like electric discharge, pooling low into my belly. I shifted on my feet, knowing that I was already wet.

«Kylo. Your pants» I reminded him, running my hand along Ishtar’s back until I could slip my fingertips underneath the hem of her panties. I felt the swell of her ass, and the cleft between her cheeks.

« _Yes_ , Ni» Ishtar breathed against my wet skin, making me shiver. I wasn’t sure what she was asking for, but I didn’t remove my hand, and I arched a brow at Kylo. The pointed look was enough to spur him on. Shaking his head like a wet dog in the obvious attempt to clear his foggy mind, Kylo scrambled to obey, fumbling with his jeans. It took him a moment to navigate the difficulties of buttons, but eventually he was shimming out of his pants, taking his underwear and his socks with them. He didn’t even bother to fling them aside–he just left the heap of clothes on the floor, between his open knees, and stared at me with hazy eyes, waiting for directions. His cock looked just as big as I remembered, curving up thick and red from the thatch of unruly black hairs nestled between his powerful thighs.

I smiled at him, feeling a devastating fondness squeeze my dead heart as I looked at his dazed, eager face.

«Condom. Put it on» I murmured, lowering my hand to cup Ishtar’s entire asscheek. She moaned against my breast, wet and deep, and pulled at my nipple almost painfully as I slipped a finger between her thighs. She felt sizzling hot and soaking wet, skin soft and yielding as I pushed my fingertip inside. My mouth turned sandpaper-dry as she moaned again, almost wailing at the light touch.

«Yes, Ni, _yes_ » she was babbling, holding onto my shoulders and staring up at me with dark eyes and shiny lips. «Touch me, fuck me, I need _something_ after all this time.»

«You’ll get it, don’t worry» I whispered back, trying to soothe her. She looked frantic, clenching around my finger as though I was going to take it away just out of spite, and only then I fully realized how much she’d suffered through those months–how fundamental sex was for her, how deep her need to be touched ran. It wasn’t just being stubborn and being horny. It was a necessity, like a needling and all-devouring hunger.

I kissed her lips, sweetly, and then both her closed eyes, as I pushed in to the knuckle. Ishtar’s fingers dug painfully into my shoulders, as she hid her face against my chest and let go a trembling, moaning sigh.

Kylo was still staring hazily at us, when I turned, but he’d somehow managed to slip a condom on his cock. I barely held in a laughter, as I realised that the sullen boy that had been throwing tantrums at us for months didn’t seem to have anything to complain about right now. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with hunched shoulders and almost trembling hands, very quiet–and very, very still.

«Come here, Kylo» I murmured, loathing to break the spell of the moment. I cupped Ishtar’s nape as I fingered her slowly, keeping her close, with such a proprietary sweetness to the touch that I was fighting to recognise myself. It was as though the person I knew as Niahm Sídhe would shift slightly every time I was in their orbit, and the same would happen to Kylo and Ishtar. It hadn’t been a one-time thing. We were different, when we were together. Our sharp edges would soften, and whatever it was that we kept hidden and deep asleep inside of us when we were alone -the sweeter kernel of ourselves that we strangled in daylight-, would shine through as soon as we were close enough to touch. It was a strange, scary thought. But it was true.

Kylo rose on his feet slowly, as though he wasn’t sure he could trust his own legs, but my voice was reeling him in like a fishing rod. He swayed for a moment, and there was a slight uncertainty in the way he shuffled closer, eventually towering on us. He was keeping his shoulders hunched, trying to take up as little space as possible, but there was little that could be done with such a tall frame.

Ishtar whined brokenly against my collarbone when I slipped my finger free, but I soothed her with a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

«You can jump on him, now» I whispered, straight in her ear. My words were met with a short, almost thrumming silence, before Ishtar pulled away from my embrace and gifted me with one of her sharpest grin.

«I like the way you think» she growled, grabbing my cheeks for a deep, wet kiss, before turning towards Kylo with all the dangerous grace of a hunting predator. «Now, Knight of Ren. _Catch me_.»

That was all the warning Kylo got. He barely had the time to brace for the impact that Ishtar, shifting her weight slightly on one of her still-covered feet, sprung up in another impressive leap and wrapped her thighs around his waist. Kylo swayed slightly with her momentum, but he recovered quickly, and once again his hands instinctively found her ass to keep her upright. But she was naked, this time–her purple thong doing nothing to cover the tender flesh, with its thin tread disappearing between her cheeks. Kylo seemed to realise this undeniable reality with a deep blush and a rushed breath. He swallowed so thickly that I saw his Adam’s apple bobble along the blushing column of his throat, dusted with dark moles.

Ishtar’s smile was blinding, as she secured her arms around Kylo’s neck and pressed their foreheads together. She looked so happy she was giddy with it, her skin almost shimmering with a rosy glow in the soft artificial lights. She cupped Kylo’s nape and sank her fingers in his thick curls, as she kissed the tip of his long nose.

«Now, Knight of Ren, fuck me like you mean it» she hissed, the roughness of her voice at odd with the sweetness of her touch. Kylo swallowed again, breath ragged as he lowered his lashes almost to brush his cheeks. His ears were bright red, his shoulders shaking slightly.

He almost jumped out of his skin when I pressed my palm against the small of his back. His first instinct was to turn around, but Ishtar was keeping him in place–which was fortunate, or she would’ve got head-butted with how jerky he moved when he was so nervous, or excited. I kissed the ball of his shoulder, and Kylo subtly relaxed under my touch.

«Use the wall as a prop - I suggested, pushing him slightly forwards - It’s easier.» Or at least I hoped so, because I’d never been fucked against a wall in my entire life. It took more passion than what either me or Kevan could muster, and perhaps that was exactly why I wanted to see them just like that–to see them burn bright, skins sizzling hot as they devoured each other over and over and over. Ishtar had given me the idea, and my brain had promptly latched onto it like a leech. I wanted them in ways I’d never wanted anyone else, to touch and to fuck and to watch. I _wanted_ them.

«Listen to Ni, Kylo - Ishtar purred, with a spark of pure triumph in her laughing voice - Her mind seems to be filled with deliciously filthy ideas.»

I chuckled under my breath as I prodded him again, and this time Kylo went with it, staggering forwards until Ishtar’s back hit the wall with a soft thud.

«Oh! - Kylo gulped, pushing a hand against the wall to keep himself upright, and Ishtar away from it - I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you...»

«Don’t be silly, you didn’t hurt me» Ishtar grumbled, but she was too busy squirming in his grasp to deliver proper reassurance. She was keeping her balance with only one hand wrapped around his nape, and leaning back to brace herself against the wall. Her other hand was rummaging between their bodies, and I spotted with a shiver the moment she took hold of Kylo’s cock, guiding it inside of her. The skin on Kylo’s back seemed to ripple, as a deep-seated shudder ran down his spine. His breath caught, and a rough groan escaped from his throat as though Ishtar had punched it out of him. His body seemed to lock up for a moment, and then he was slumping forwards, resting his forehead on Ishtar’s shoulder as she settled her weight in his lap.

«Here we go» Ishtar purred, eyes heavy-lidded and lips upturned into a lazy smirk as she locked both her hands behind his nape. Her milky fingers looked blinding against the backdrop of his ink-black hair, and her black stockings lurid against the mole-dotted skin of his pale hips. Her white hair seemed to be everywhere, covering her shoulders and running down her arms like trickles of light. «You are so big, so thick - Ishtar sighed, adjusting her weight around his hips - I missed this so much. _So_. _Much_.»

They were so beautiful it hurt. My breath itched as I watched them, heart thudding wildly against the cage of my chest. I didn’t need to look to know that my nipples were peaked, or to shift my weight to know that I was wet between my thighs. Kylo’s groan, as Ishtar started to move against his frame, sank sharp and deep inside my core, and pulled painfully at my skin.

«Fuck me, Kylo» Ishtar growled, fingers denting the tender meat of his shoulder as she shifted her grip. «Make me remember. It’s been so long. I need this. You _owe_ me this.»

Kylo’s whine sounded lost, almost pained. He was hunched all around Ishtar as though he was trying to absorb her into his skin. He was still keeping her upright with one hand, while the other was pressed together with the entire forearm against the wall, taking the full brunt of his weight. His head was bent forward, face pressed against Ishtar’s delicate shoulder and red ears peeking out through soft black locks. Then, he shifted his weight, widening his stance, and his hips rolled in a quivering of powerful muscles as he pulled back and slammed right in.

I felt the shift like a vibration straight into my core, reverberating with Ishtar’s high moan and Kylo’s shuddering grumble. My heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to pound a path straight out of my ribcage, the sound deafening, but not even remotely enough to cover the slap of wet flesh, or the soft groans of their coupling. My chest felt two sizes too tight, and my legs like they were about to give out at a moment notice. I stumbled backwards, eyes glued to the shifting of muscles in Kylo’s back as he pulled back and slammed in over and over and over, until my knees hit the bed and I fell ungracefully on it.

«Fuck, Kylo, yes! - Ishtar was growling, one hand knotted into Kylo’s hair and the other grabbing chunks of tender flesh from his meaty shoulder - Finally! Fuck me, Kylo, you owe me this! Three fucking months! You _owe_ me!»

There was little finesse in the way Kylo was thrusting into her, little anything that wasn’t the animal need to fuck, the instinct to pound into her as deeply and as forcefully as he could. His early attempts at holding back a little, at least enough to make sure he wasn’t hurting her, had been pulverised the moment Ishtar had open her mouth to spur him on. He was just hammering into her at a jack-rabbit pace now, hips snapping over and over and over with no thought behind. He was hiding his face against her neck, using her skin to stifle his lost, pained moans. There was something primeval to it, almost as wild as Ishtar rabid quest for pleasure as she used the wall as a prop to sink onto his cock over and over. Kylo’s instinct to hide when overwhelmed against Ishtar’s instinct to sate a craving–it pulled at my flesh like a hook, sharp and painful and deeply seated.

I groped blindly at the buttons of my jeans, but I was barely aware of anything that wasn’t the glorious, relentless fucking that was going on in front of me. The shifting of muscles under the soft skin of Kylo’s back was mesmerizing to watch, just like the clenching of his ass every time he rammed into Ishtar with a pained grunt. She was spread wide around him, and the sight of her hose-covered legs framing his pistoning hips was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. I could make out the delicate shapes of her toes under the black silk, and the shifting of her quadriceps around the elastic band of her hold-up stockings every time she would use her thighs to pull up her weight, before sinking right back onto his cock. There was a frill above the band, a wicker-like pattern of loosely interwoven silk, and it was weird how it caught my gaze for a long moment, as I tried to blink my brain back into gear. It was a strange, dizzy feeling, like a storm over parched earth–too much to be properly absorbed.

I was boiling inside my jeans, and the rough cloth was chafing my skin. I tried to breathe, air thick and sizzling, peppered with the soft groan and growls of Ishtar and Kylo. I could see Ishtar’s face beyond the crown of Kylo’s head, the look of rapacious hunger and delirious pleasure as she rubbed her cheek against his hair, or as she nipped sharply at his blushing ear. The sight trickled down my spine like a quiver, digging burrows into my flesh like acid. It was almost too much.

My hands were trembling slightly as I shimmied out of my jeans. I didn’t have it in me to take care of them properly, so I just dropped them on top of Kylo’s and Ishtar’s discharged clothes, followed by my socks and underwear.

It was right then that Ishtar’s gaze found me–as I straightened up, completely naked, flushed and out of breath and painfully turned on. There was a high blush on her cheeks, almost feverish, and her damp skin glimmered like dew. She was panting, shallow and breathless and exhilarated.

Her eyes were shining like obsidian shards as she focused them on me. She was resting her cheek against Kylo’s thick curls, moaning roughly at a particularly deep thrust, lids fluttering halfway close, but her gaze never wavered. Her narrowed eyes slowly took me in, crawling down my frame inch by inch before sliding back to my face. They lingered on my breasts, on the thicket of blond hair between my thighs, on my legs. It felt almost like a touch–hard and probing and unyielding.

I kept my eyes trained on Ishtar, like I would with a dangerous beast, as I slowly climbed on the bed. I was perfectly aware of the shifting of my body, the swinging of my breasts, the peeking of bare flesh between my folds as I crawled blindly backwards, without daring to turn my back on her.

Ishtar didn’t need to say anything. I knew what she wanted me to do, and I had no excuses now. I swallowed a thick lump as I kneeled, spreading my legs and balancing myself low. Our eyes were still locked above Kylo’s shoulder as I pushed a hand between my thighs.

« _Yes_ » Ishtar hissed, dragging the _s_ on and on and on as her nails sank into Kylo’s meaty shoulder. Kylo grunted at the feeling, hips snapping forwards almost brutally, before recovering a semblance of rhythm.

I mumbled, thick in my throat, as my fingers skimmed over my clit. The sight of Ishtar and Kylo fucking had been so all-consuming that I’d barely registered the tension coiling tighter and tighter in my belly, but the touch brought my own need violently back into the front row. My skin was prickling with it, as it washed in thick waves over me in time with the rabid pounding of my heart.

I sucked in a deep breath, bracing myself on the hand I’d planted between my splayed legs, as my fingers went to work on my clit. I’d never had much patience with my own pleasure, and I didn’t ease myself into it with a teasing touch–I just went straight to business, pressing hard on it and tracing tight circles against slick hot skin. I could feel sweat gather on my temples, bead between my thighs, trickle down my back. The air seemed syrupy-dense, like a jungle.

I could only imagine the fine picture I cut, hunched forward with a hand stuck between my thighs. I licked my lips, swallowing a groan as I looked back at Ishtar. She was staring at me as though she was devouring Kylo whole, and I was next on the list.

«Go on» she growled, and I knew what she meant, even as she pulled tightly at Kylo’s hair. He took it as an encouragement, and moaned deep in his throat as his hips pistoned forward. The unrelenting pace Ishtar was riding him with never faltered, but I had no doubt that her focus was trained on me, and not even Kylo’s cock could distract her for long. I would soon learn that sex was enough to distract Ishtar in any context, but that nothing could distract her from sex–not even more sex. She would pursue whatever she wanted with the dogged determination of a hound, and she could be appeased with something close enough only for so long.

I grumbled behind clenched teeth as I pushed my hand deeper between my thighs, probing at my entrance with stiff fingers. I hadn’t been remiss in my task during the last few weeks, and I opened up easily when I pushed in. My walls clenched around my two fingers like a vice, hot and slick, and I fought the instinct to bend my head and break eye contact at the sensation. I wasn’t alone in my room, grasping at worn memories to get myself off–I was right there with them, and I wanted to have my eyes and brain filled to the brim with the perfect picture of Kylo and Ishtar fucking as I neared the peak. I wanted Ishtar to look at me as I touched myself, and I wanted to know what her eyes looked like, as she watched me come all over my own fingers.

«Yes. Go on, yes» Ishtar hissed, and I knew that it was just as much for Kylo’s benefit as my own. I fisted the thick coverlet as I picked up the pace, rolling my hips to fuck myself onto my own fingers as I thumbed mercilessly at my clit. It wasn’t as effective as focusing solely on my clit, but being penetrated under Ishtar’s watchful gaze was enough of a thrill that I felt thick ribbons of pleasure start coiling low in my belly, pulling at every nerve ending like hair-thin threads. I shivered as she licked at her lips, thumping her head backwards against the wall as Kylo drove deeper inside her body. Her narrowed eyes were glinting between lowered lashes, dark and unwavering.

Kylo’s rhythm broke down, after that. He started to fuck into her uncoordinatedly, a rabbit-quick pounding that tore groans and high moans from his throats, as his nails scraped against the violet wallpaper covering the wall. His ass clenched up beautifully at every desperate thrust, muscles shifting beneath miles of milky skin, glistening with sweat and flushed rosy from the exertion. Ishtar’s stoking-covered feet brushed against his inner thighs every time he rammed into her, and his upper back was streaked in red marks from her blunt nails. I screwed my fingers in over and over as I drank them in, thumb working furiously on my clit as Kylo’s uneven pounding faltered and a string of broken moans fell from his lips.

I watched with ravenous hunger as Kylo’s hips drove into Ishtar’s once, twice more, before stuttering to a halt. His body went taut as a bow, muscles coiled so tightly it hurt to watch, as he stifled a pitiful groan against Ishtar’s neck. She kept him close, pressing her cheek against the crown of his head as she cupped his nape in her palm. She looked content, like a sated cat. Kylo trembled in her embrace, the muscles in his back quivering as he kept himself painfully still. His hips shot forward in a few half-hearted attempts at fucking, instinctively seeking out the last shards of pleasure, but they stilled soon enough, the pressure clearly too much for his over-stimulated cock.

The sight was enough to send me spinning. I was drenching wet between my thighs, as I screwed my two fingers inside over and over. A string of shivers trailed down my spine in tiny droplets, while my breath sped up and I folded my body almost in half, limbs curling up around my breached opening.

Kylo seemed to deflate, after that, like a puppet with its strings cut. He slumped his entire weight forward, effectively pinning Ishtar against the wall, as his muscles unlocked all at once. His face was still hidden against the elegant curve of her neck, and his uneven breath was so loud that I could hear it in the silence like a shot. I panted in sympathy, forcing my slick opening to take a third finger. It felt so tight around them, walls struggling to accommodate the stretch as my thumb skated over the soaking wet clit. I was shivering, the pleasure rooted into my belly coiling tighter and tighter as Kylo slowly came down from his high. Ishtar was still staring at me, eyes almost unblinking as she rubbed her cheek against Kylo’s, shining lips catching on the hard ridge of his huge ear over and over. She was breathing hard, colour high in her cheekbones, but her focus was absolute.

«Such a sweet thing you are» she whispered in Kylo’s ear, but her eyes never wandered from my face. Kylo shivered at the praise, a full-body shake that tore a groan out of his throat, and I suddenly realised that Ishtar was still wearing her thong–that she’d simply pushed it out of the way to accommodate Kylo’s cock, and that the thin thread had most likely rubbed all over Kylo’s length at every push and every pull. Such a merciless tease, and Kylo was already so sensitive, so vulnerable, so perfectly attuned to our pleasure. Such an _Ishtar_ thing to do.

That, for some reason, was what pushed me over–the thought of Ishtar’s bunched-up thong, rubbing all over Kylo’s cock at every desperate thrust. It spurred me on like a cattle prod, releasing the tight coil of pleasure knotted into my belly as I came all over my fingers. I groaned as it washed all over me, wave after wave, loud enough to draw even Kylo’s attention, even if he was still coming down from his high. I caught a glimpse of wide brown eyes as he snapped his head towards me, instinctively hauling Ishtar from the wall to turn around just enough to see what was going on behind his back, before my trembling arm gave out and I crumbled on the bed in a gasping mess.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever, but it probably didn’t last longer than two heartbeats before Kylo’s uncertain voice treaded all over it.

«...Ni?»

I tried to catch my breath enough to straighten myself up, or at least enough to answer with something more dignified than a garbled groan. My fingers were still buried deep inside of me, and I hissed when I pulled them out. I could feel the throbbing of abused flesh right in my toes, and my heartbeat in my swollen clit. I was still folded in half when I looked up, bracing my weight on my forearm as I peered at them through loose strands of blond hair.

«Yes?» I grumbled, struggling to control my breathing. Kylo was still standing by the wall and cradling Ishtar in his arms, even if the movement had jostled his softening cock from the tight embrace of Ishtar’s body. It was swinging between his thighs now, the latex shining as the condom looked like it was holding onto Kylo’s flesh for dear life.

«What... Did you...» Kylo stammered, as a new wave of colour hit his already flushed face. He blushed right up to his ears, while he struggled between the instinct to look away out of sheer embarrassment and the hunger that kept dragging his gaze back on me. There was a soft frown between his brows, and he was trying to look at my crumpled body and _not_ to look at the same time.

Ishtar didn’t share his hang-ups. Her soft lips were pulled into a lazy smile, and her eyes were shining with mischief as they roamed up and down my frame.

«Yes, she did - she confirmed blithely, with unmistakable satisfaction - It was quite a sight actually–Ni screwing herself on her own fingers. Pity you missed it.»

I couldn’t hold in a shaking laugh, at the look of utter betrayal that Kylo levelled on her. It was something between disbelieving and affronted, and I tried and failed to catch my breath as I kept snickering behind the pitiful cover offered by my rumpled hair. The obvious result was that I became the next target of Kylo’s outraged gaze, and it was simply too much–I crumbled on the bed like a pile of rags as my frame was shaken by wave after wave of wheezing giggles, echoed by Ishtar’s impish chuckle.

«Stop laughing, it’s not funny!» Kylo grumbled, nowhere too pleased, and his peeved protest just fuelled another round of breathless chortling. «You always do that - he complained, without making a move to  release his hold on Ishtar as he glared at us - You wait for me to go to the bathroom or to fall asleep or to be distracted and then you do... _things_.»

« _Things_ » I wheezed, trying to get a grip on myself and failing ignominiously. I felt so light and giddy and just stupidly _happy_ for being there, with them, that I just couldn’t stop laughing. As I looked up at them again, I was smiling so hard it hurt.

«We are very sorry, Kylo - Ishtar giggled, pushing a strand of black hair behind his ear in a teasingly affectionate gesture - We’ll try to control ourselves in the future. We’ll wait for you to do the _things_.»

That was enough to kick-start a fresh wave of giggles, which seemed to offend Kylo so much that he dumped Ishtar unceremoniously on the floor and grumbled something about getting rid of the condom, before stalking out of the room with as much dignity as a man with a used prophylactic still sticking to his spent cock could maintain. Ishtar didn’t seem to be particularly put out by the display. There was a huge, mischievous smirk on her lips as she joined me on the bed, mattress dipping as she bounced on it.

«We shouldn’t have laughed» I said, even if I couldn’t completely erase every trace of hilarity from my voice. It wasn’t a cruel laugh, but Kylo was still too prickly to understand that we were laughing _with_ him, not _at_ him. His childish touchiness should’ve been annoying, and I had no idea how I could find it almost charming in its own way. Perhaps it had something to do with how exquisitely vulnerable he was.

Ishtar shrugged, eyes bright and glittering. The tip of her braided hair fluttered against the coverlet every time she moved.

«He’ll get over it - she replied - He’s not really angry, either. He’s just marking his territory or something. He likes it when people find him scary.»

I arched a brow.

«I’m really not scared of him» I said, breath slowly normalizing as my body cooled down by increments. Even if the last shards of my orgasm had dwindled away, I could still feel how swollen my clit was between my thighs, and a delicious weariness layered over my entire body. I knew it wouldn’t last, but I appreciated feeling relaxed and sated–which was why I normally rushed through the boring routine to get myself off in the first place.

Ishtar chuckled lightly at my reply. She reached out, tucking a lock of blond hair behind my ear, and there was something like affection in her eyes as she looked at me. Her hand found the curve of my jaw, and rested here, fingers curling under my chin as she let her eyes roam over my face as she pleased.

«I missed touching you» she murmured, warm and pleased. She thumbed my lips lightly, before carrying on: «He doesn’t want us to be scared of him. It’s just how he reacts when he feels unbalanced. Like a knee-jerk reaction. Scary Knight of Ren and so on.»

It was a strangely deep insight, for someone as self-involved as Ishtar. Maybe I’d underestimated her, too. Maybe I was the conceited, self-centred one.

«I don’t want him to feel unbalanced with us» I said instead, without really meaning to, and only when those words left my lips I realised that I was telling the honest truth. Ishtar hummed under her breath, framing my face between her hands and searching my face with stony eyes, dark and deep.

«I know - she whispered, coming so close that her lips brushed against mine at every word - You want us to feel safe with you. You want to protect us. You have a sweet, nurturing soul, deep down.»

I almost laughed at that.

«I really don’t.»

Ishtar’s smirk looked as sharp as glass shards, when she moved back just enough to peer into my eyes.

«But you do - she purred, and I realised that she was pushing me down only when I felt the mattress hit my back - Kylo likes to puff his feathers and look menacing, but he’s soft, deep down. He’s much gentler then he lets on. You can see that, I know you do. I can see it too.»

I could do nothing but stare up at her as Ishtar’s hands guided me up the bed, head resting askew of the cushion and legs straightening over the coverlet. Ishtar was ranging over me on all four, as I lay there on my back, naked and completely spell-bound. I could feel the brush of her stocking against the my bare thighs, and I thought vaguely that that was exactly what Kylo had felt, as he fucked her against the wall–the whisper of lace on skin.

«You see vulnerable, and you want to cradle him» she went on, eyes so black and so huge they seemed to blot out the light. She reached behind herself with one hand, managing to look graceful somehow as she dragged her thong down her creamy thighs and out of the way. «I see vulnerable, and I want to swallow him whole.»

The honest truth. I closed my eyes, as I let it sink in. Ishtar could be so puzzlingly blind, sometimes, that I forgot how sharp she actually was. She was just like me, just like Kylo–we carried around our tattered selves and tripped in the gaps and voids that made us unfit for human company, but that didn’t make us any less perceptive. Ishtar might be careless in how she handled us -ever the spoiled princess, uncomprehending about actions and relative consequences- but she could smell weakness like a bloodhound. And while I was indifferent, and Kylo touchy and self-absorbed, we were emphatic enough to understand words not said, and react to emotions not shown.

What a mess we made.

«Open your eyes, Ni» Ishtar whispered, bending down just enough for her braids to trail all over my skin like feathers, raising goosebumps in their wake. «Look at me.»

I obeyed, and her face was so close that it blotted out the world. The only thing I could see, as her white hair covered us like a curtain. My breath fluttered in my chest as she took both my hands, pressing them on the mattress at either side of my head and interlacing our fingers.

«You are mine. Both of you» she growled, low in her throat, nudging one of my legs up with her knee until my calf was framing her hips. I was exposed, bared and vulnerable. I couldn’t remember anything in the world that wasn’t Ishtar, as her words burrowed so deep inside my skin that I doubted I could ever dig them out. «I _own_ you. I want to sink my teeth in those sweet souls of yours and never let you go.»

I gasped, high and broken like a wail, as she brought her hips down and ground them into mine. The push opened me up even more, slick flesh colliding against slick flesh in a long, wet slide. I tried to move, even if I wasn’t sure to do what, but Ishtar growled between her teeth and used her entire weight to pin me down, our hands sinking deeply into the mattress as her sex rubbed against mine. The aim was slightly off, but Ishtar was getting better at it at every roll of her hips, catching my clit against the hard bone ridge right underneath her soft, slick sex. I groaned as I felt the pressure up into my nape, a fresh wave of need and pleasure and hunger fluttering deep inside my belly.

I wasn’t sated anymore–I was ravenous, and I wanted, I _craved_ more. I thrust back against Ishtar, grinding my hips against her delicate flesh with enough strength that I almost dislodged her, but Ishtar simply laughed, free and loud and happy, and pushed me back down with a powerful flexing of her deceitfully lean thighs. We floundered a little as we learnt how to work together, but we eventually found a rhythm–clits rubbing against deliciously wet flesh at every roll of our hips.

I whined, straight-up _whined_ in her mouth when Ishtar bent down to press her lips against mine. It was a messy, wet kiss, but it felt glorious, and Ishtar kept up the steady rocking of her hips even as she sloppily licked into my mouth and felt the edge of my teeth with the tip of her tongue. The roiling pressure of her wet flesh against my clit was maddening, and it was winding me up tighter at every push, at every slide, as every nerve-ending came alive with a shudder and my overheated skin melted into Ishtar’s. I could feel the elastic band of her stocking brush against my inner thigh at every shift of her body, and it was a strange kind of pleasure, the constant stimulation against such a soft, sensitive path of skin. My other leg was trapped beneath her weight, and she’d tucked her hose-covered feet right underneath. She was perched so low above me that I could feel the touch of peaked nipples against my breast and the tightening of muscles in her belly at every push of her hips.

The kiss seemed to go on forever. It’d become gentler at some point, a stark counterbalance to the unrelenting grinding against my clit. By now, Ishtar was simply licking lazily inside my mouth, as our lips brushed softly at every push and we breathed each other’s air, damp and syrupy-thick. Her eyes had narrowed down to shards of shimmering darkness through thick lashes, but Ishtar was still looking at me, drinking in my face just as I couldn’t stop staring up at hers. There was a lovely flush spreading over her cheeks, sweat beading on her forehead, and as she growled softly inside my mouth I realised that even if Kylo had been ramming frantically inside of her, she hadn’t come yet–that she was doggedly chasing her own elusive orgasm as she mercilessly rode my clit.

I was so lost into her relentless rhythm that it took me a moment to realise that it was faltering, and that Ishtar’s attention had shifted somewhere else. Somewhere close to our left, it seems. I followed her lead, turning my head idly and trying to see something beyond the thick curtain of her braided hair.

The cause of her distraction, of course, was Kylo, who was kneeling on the carpet by the side of the bed. I hadn’t heard him come back, but he’d been there for quite some time, by the look of it. He’d crossed his arms over the mattress, using them to prop up his chin. His big brown eyes were trained on us with absolute focus, barely blinking. He was keeping himself almost inhumanly still, as though he was worried that even a harsh breath could break the spell. His thick mouth looked shiny and raw, as though he’d been gnawing on it, and Kylo reflexively sucked his bottom lips between his teeth right as I looked at him.

«Sorry, Kylo - Ishtar giggled, sounding out of breath as she kept rocking her hips mercilessly against my clit - We couldn’t resist.»

Kylo barely shrugged, whatever complains he’d had completely forgotten. His dark eyes looked enormous as he stared, drinking in the sight of us with such an undiluted hunger that I felt a shiver trickle down my back. The blushing tips of his big ears peeked out of his thick hair, and there were black strands falling into his eyes, but he didn’t seem to have enough attention to spare to push them out of the way.

He was close enough to touch, but I was reminded of Ishtar’s  unyielding grip on my hands as I made to reach for him. Her grasp tightened immediately when I tried to move, and her black eyes were boring holes into mine as the ponderous weight of her focus was shifted once again on me.

«Don’t even _think_ about moving» she snarled, emphasizing her command with a pointed roll of her hips. I groaned at the deep grinding against my clit, and Ishtar, once reassured of my obedience, shifted her attention back to Kylo. «Do you want to come up here?» she purred, hair trailing deliciously over my skin at every shift of her head. I could feel another orgasm approaching, but I tried to push it back down–I didn’t want to come too soon, even if I had a nagging suspicion that Ishtar would simply carry on in her quest for her own pleasure even if I was twitching and over-stimulated under her. Probably even more so.

Kylo barely blinked at that, eyes glued on our bodies, rutting relentlessly against each other. I could only imagine what he was seeing, as Ishtar nailed me down and ground her hips against mine, her entire body held up tight while her muscles shifted like waves under her soft pale skin.

«’s ok - he grumbled, voice little more than a whisper - I like it here.»

Ishtar chuckled again, delight lighting up her exquisite features.

«Alright - she purred, turning towards me with a dangerous glint in her eyes - We’ll give you a show then.»

I snickered at her declaration, and Ishtar pressed down her entire weight on me in a punishingly harsh thrust. My amused chuckle turned into a breathless groan, as pleasure sparked over my skin like electricity, and Ishtar picked up her pace again. She was holding herself up, no doubt to offer Kylo a better view, but I had no qualms about taking advantage of that to drink in the sight of her. It felt so long since the last time I could watch her naked body, and it was shocking how much I could remember. I could pinpoint every crease of her skin at the junctions between her legs and hips, and I could draw the delicate shape of her bones from memory. There was a soft blush spreading down her body now, as I took in with unbearable hunger the shape of lean muscles pushing against the soft skin of her thin arms, or the elegant shape of her ribcage pushing up at every shallow breath. Her sex was just as delicious as I remembered, perfectly waxed, soft and wet as she ground it against my own, and every roll of her hips made her small breasts quiver. Every feature was so perfectly balanced in her lithe body that I looked ungainly under her, too hard and too sinewy and too tall, but Ishtar’s delight was just as impossible to mistake as her hunger as she looked down at me, and I didn’t care about anything else.

I moaned, high and trembling, as every shift of her hips coiled my pleasure tighter and tighter within my belly, like a handful of sparks, embedded deeply into my flesh. I shuddered, back arching as my body tried and failed to contain it, nerve-endings misfiring.

Ishtar’s voice was low and sharp when she spoke again, and her eyes were piercing as they bore holes in mine.

«Three months - Ishtar hissed, her hands pressing down onto mine until they were sinking into the coverlet as far as they’d go - Three months without touching you, without even seeing you. You could’ve got yourself off on camera, at least, but no, you left me there hanging. You could’ve showed me some ass, some tits, anything at all, but instead you just teased me with those ridiculously skimpy outfits that you’ve been trying to sell me as gym clothes. Yoga clothes. Whatever.» Her hips were grinding down onto mine almost painfully now, and her voice was rough and low and growling, as an animal focus shone bright and dangerous in her eyes. She was panting through it, but she didn’t care. She sounded close, and I knew how single-minded she could get when her own orgasm was within reach. As thoughtless as a hunting tiger. «Three months, refusing everything to me. And the first thing you do, the first fucking thing you do when we get here, is to get naked and screw yourself on the fucking bed, right in front of my eyes.»

I could hear very little over her rumbling voice and my own panting breath, but Kylo’s sharp inhale was impossible to miss. I had no attention to spare for him, but I had no doubt that he was drinking everything in like a parched man stranded in a desert. I wondered idly if he was hard again, and if after Ishtar’s relentless grinding it would be the turn of Kylo’s thorough pounding. The thought dragged a groan out of my lips, leaving me shuddering under Ishtar’s merciless assault.

«Three. Fucking. Months» Ishtar growled, every word underlined by a pointed thrust of her hips. Her pace sped up again after that, and soon her grinding became aimless, faltering in its rhythm, until Ishtar came with a high, deep moan all over me. Her hips stuttered against mine, so I took over, trying to milk every last shard of her orgasm out of her by rocking up into her as much as I could, pinned down as I was against the mattress. She slumped forwards, resting her entire weight on me as she shuddered at every gentle rock of my hips, eyes narrowed down to slivers and blush spreading down to her peaked nipples.

Soon, it became too much, and Ishtar hissed between clenched teeth as she pinned my hips down to halt their motion. I stilled at her silent command, and allowed her to keep me in place with an iron grip while she was slowly coming down from her high. Her frantic, aimless grinding hadn’t been enough to push me over again, but I didn’t mind, drinking the sight of her as I lay sprawled and boneless under her heaving body. My breath took little time to slow down, while Ishtar went on panting and shuddering over me for a while longer, keeping herself upright out of sheer stubbornness as she recovered.

Eventually, her black eyes opened again, and I smiled softly up at her as she studied my face in silence. Her breathing was still shallow, but she looked more put together by the moment, and I was in no rush to move. My own pleasure had been pushed back enough that it prickled barely more than a splinter under my skin, and Ishtar looked gorgeous like that, still flushed from her orgasm but sated and loose and deeply satisfied. She gave me a little smirk as she let me go. I left my hands exactly where she’d pushed them, pliant and yielding, and Ishtar’s smirk got wider, sharper, as she ran possessive fingers down my wrists and along my arms. Finally, her hands found my breasts, and she cupped them in her palms with a delighted sigh.

«I love your tits» Ishtar purred, kneading the supple flesh with unmistakable satisfaction. I shivered when she roughly thumbed at my nipples, and her smirk was full of teeth as she lifted her eyes to meet Kylo’s. «And I’m talking to the both of you.»

I chuckled under my breath at her predictable quip, and I didn’t need to look to know that Kylo was probably looking down at the coverlet with a bashful expression painted all over his expressive features. Ishtar seemed particularly fond of that word, but he never got used to hearing it related to his pecs.

Kylo was blushing up to his ears, when I glanced at him. He looked uneasy, picking at the coverlet with stiff fingers as he hid his face behind his crossed arms, dark eyes only peeking out. His gaze kept shifting from us to the beddings and back again, as though he was too embarrassed to look at us in the eye, but didn’t want to miss a second of us touching each other.

Ishtar wasn’t holding me down anymore, so I reached for him, tracing his heated cheek with my fingertips. The barely-there touch was more than enough to capture Kylo’s attention, and his dark eyes were wide and slightly guarded as he pointed them on me.

Ishtar’s words came back to me, haunting like an echo, as I pressed my palm again his smooth cheek.

Soft. Sweet. _Vulnerable_.

She was right, I thought, as Kylo leaned into my touch, narrowing his eyes like a skittish cat. I saw vulnerable, and I wanted to hold him. I wanted to protect him. The feeling hit me like a punch in the guts, just like it had months before, when he’d stared at us with awed, trusting eyes as we introduced him to sex. It felt just as strong, and just as alien. The person I was with them was a complete stranger to me–I didn’t know her at all.

My touch softened a little as my brain tried to work out whatever was happening, but Kylo didn’t seem amenable to let me go. He grabbed my hand before I could take it away, and kept it pressed against his cheek. The request was impossible to mistake, or ignore, so I sighed deep in my chest and I swiped a thumb across his cheekbone, while Kylo searched my face with imploring eyes.

Ishtar’s palm on my own cheek reeled my attention back in. She was looking down at me with soft eyes, clearly pleased by what she was seeing. I parted my lips as she thumbed them, and sucked the tip of her thumb into my mouth when she pressed in. Kylo inhaled sharply at the sight, and I peered up at Ishtar with lazy eyes as I licked idly at her skin.

«Three months, Ni» Ishtar all but purred, dragging the pad of her thumb against my tongue. It was slightly rough, and tasted like Ishtar. It was a heady touch, and I realised that I wanted nothing more than having her fingers inside of me, fucking me over and over. Her voice seemed to echo my thoughts, as she went on: «You’ll need something inside of you, after all this time.»

I hummed my agreement, pressing my teeth on her delicate thumb. Ishtar’s breath faltered slightly, but she just aimed a wicked smile at me as she twisted my nipple with her other hand. My hum became a hiss, and Ishtar’s smirk grew up two sizes.

«Are you hard, Kylo?» she asked, with the same benign tone she could’ve used to talk about the weather.

Kylo shifted against my hand, and when his voice came out, an undetermined amount of time later, it was stifled by my palm.

«Yes» he grumbled.

Ishtar hummed her satisfaction, as she thrust her thumb inside my yielding mouth over and over.

«Good. Ni deserves some good dick, after all this time» she purred, dragging a chuckle out of my throat. Kylo’s grip on my wrist hardened, and then I looked at him I saw that he was hiding behind my hand, cheeks blazing hot as he aimed an embarrassed pout at us.

Ishtar blinked at him with perfect innocence, just as her thumb dragged wet circle all around my lips before slipping along my chin, hand resting against my throat. She wasn’t holding me, but the touch sent a spike of excitement along my spine anyway.

«What? - she asked, as though she hadn’t felt my shiver and tightened her grip accordingly - It was a compliment! You should be proud of yourself!»

Kylo threw her a dirty look from over my hand, thick lips pressed against my palm as he used it as a shield. It looked like he didn’t know whether to preen at the praise or to melt into the carpet out of sheer embarrassment.

I laughed again, slightly breathless this time. I wasn’t going to explore that any time soon, but Ishtar’s loose grip around my throat was pooling liquid electricity low in my belly, like a phantom shiver.

«Leave him alone» I chuckled, turning towards Kylo and aiming an encouraging smile at him. I didn’t know what to say, exactly, so I went for the truth. «I missed you» I whispered to him, thumbing his cheekbone.

Kylo seemed to deflate at that. He was halfway up the bed before I could even register the mood shift, hard cock bobbing between his thighs. He pressed a kiss against my palm, then held it against his cheek.

«I missed you too, both of you, _so much_ » he said, young and hopeful and painfully earnest. His eyes looked so soft and bright that I realised that he was waiting just that–the confirmation that he was wanted, needed, and missed. He was grabbing my hand so tight it was almost painful, and his face was so eager that it hit me deep and low, right where it hurt.

For how wilfully blind she could choose to be, Ishtar was sharper than a blade, when she wanted. She was right. I had no idea how that could even be possible, how my withered heart could answer like that after all those years spent dead and buried, but she was right. Kylo looked so hopeful, so vulnerable right now, that I would’ve killed to keep him that way.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. Whatever that alien feeling was, it seemed to swim much too close to the surface for my comfort when I was with them. It also didn’t look like it was about to go away any time soon, so I had little choice but suck it up and get used to it.

I sighed, full of resignation, as I slipped my hand free from Kylo’s grasp. He let it go, but his eyes were still trained on me, full of expectation and absurdly eager to please. They nagged at the back of my skull like a needle, hooked deep into my flesh.

A soft sound slipped free from Ishtar’s lips as I sat up, bracing myself on stretched arms. She slid down my body without complaints, sitting on my thighs as I rolled my shoulders. I swatted at her calf, and Ishtar giggled under her breath as she climbed off me completely.

«You could find the condoms, instead of poking at him» I told her, arching a brow when she replied with a look of innocent outrage.

«I can multitask, you know» she quipped back, but she set herself quickly to the task, hunting down the box that our vigorous fucking had displaced who knew where. I was grinning like a fool as I turned to Kylo, still kneeling on the bed and with the same embarrassed, hopeful expression from before clinging to his expressive face. I reached up to caress his cheek, and Kylo melted into the touch.

«Sit down, Kylo - I murmured, as softly as I knew how - Back against the headboard. I’ll take care of you, this time.»

I felt the spiking of his breath straight on my wrist, as Kylo stared at me with huge eyes for a long moment before scrambling to obey. His back hit the headboard with a loud _thud_ in his eagerness, deepening Kylo’s blush.

«Shhh - I murmured, framing his face between my hands as I straddled his legs - It’s alright.»

Kylo’s eyes looked as huge as full moons, as I thumbed his cheekbones sweetly and took in his flushed, eager face. He was still gnawing on his bottom lips, so I  pulled it free from the trap of his teeth and kissed his mouth gently. Kylo sighed into the kiss, closing his eyes as though it pained him keeping them open. A thrill rolled down my spine at how utterly pliant he went under my hand, trusting and deliciously vulnerable. I kept looking at him, unable to close my eyes even if there was little I could see from the skewed prospective of the kiss. I licked into his mouth, and Kylo’s tongue replied softly to the gentle probing, sliding against mine in a dizzy touch.

I let the kiss linger, unwilling to put an end to it. I realised, somewhere deep down, that I missed kissing them above all else. The way they kissed couldn’t be more different, and yet it was exactly that that made it addictive–Ishtar’s relentless pushing worked as a perfect counterbalance to Kylo’s uncertain, gentler touch. When I closed the kiss with a gentle peck on Kylo’s soft lips, I was almost dizzy with it. Kylo kept his eyes shut for a while longer, as though he was clinging to the feeling of my mouth pressed against his own, before his thick lashes fluttered open. He looked almost drugged, eyes unfocused and slightly lost.

«You have no idea how much I love watching you» Ishtar murmured, drawing my attention. She was kneeling at our side, a sharp grin on her angular face, and she was holding the box of condoms in her hand. Before I could say anything, she plucked one wrapping, opened it with her teeth and handed me the thick ring of rolled plastic. «Go on - she spurred me on, eyes twinkling with unrestrained hunger - Fuck him. He looks so delicious when we do all the work. I could eat him alive.»

Kylo grumbled in embarrassment at her remark, but he seemed too distracted to protest. His eyes were wide and dark, over his red cheekbones, and he looked like he was barely breathing. I reached for his face with my free hand, stroking his cheek. Kylo’s lids slanted halfway down, as he seemed to lean into the touch with his entire body. I felt the fluttering touch of his hands above my hips, tentative and uncertain. I smiled encouragingly at him, and Kylo pressed his palms on my skin, tightening his grip.

«Breathe, Kylo - I whispered, allowing a little humour to weave into my words - I don’t want you to pass out from lack of oxygen.»

The glare that Kylo aimed at me was full of outrage, but he wasn’t really peeved. He did breathe more deeply, though, even if his hands were trembling from their perch over my hips.

«That’s better» I praised him, pressing the hand that wasn’t holding the condom above his heart. He felt sizzling hot against my skin, as though he was running a fever, but I suspected it was just embarrassment and exertion.

Kylo’s head dipped slightly at the approval in my voice, ears burning through the thick locks of his black hair. His cock twitched against the soft crease between my thigh and hip, demanding attention. It was too big to stay perfectly upright, even when hard, and it was slanted slightly to the right. It brushed against my lower belly ever time we shifted. I reached down for it, taking it in hand, and I heard Kylo’s sharp inhale just a second before his forehead hit my shoulder. He always did that, I realised–as soon as we were touching him so intimately, he would try to hide his burning face against our necks or shoulders, curling up on himself in a heart-rending self-protective gesture.

_Vulnerable_.

I aimed a somewhat pinched smile at Ishtar, but she just replied with a full grin and glinting black eyes. It was nothing new, to her. And she liked that. She’d made it abundantly clear.

Problem was–I liked that too.

I could feel my heartbeat between my legs as I gently stroked Kylo’s cock, from tip to root and back again, dragging a whimper from his lips. He was shaking ever so slightly, fingers digging into my sides and burning face almost scorching hot against my neck. He wasn’t doing anything–just pressing his closed eyes and his long lashes against my skin, barely daring to breathe. His thick hair and even thicker shoulders made looking at what I was doing difficult, but I didn’t need a particularly good view to put the condom on him.

I kept a steady hand on his cock as I lifted myself, holding onto his shoulders with the other for balance, or so I told myself–but balance had very little to do with how firmly I’d looped my arm around his neck, cradling him close to my body as I slowly lowered myself onto his cock. I pressed my cheek tightly against the crown of his hair, breathing him in deeply as the head breached me. It was just as thick as I remembered, and even if I was much looser than the first and only time I’d taken his cock, my body fought the stretch. Kylo _wailed_ as I pressed stubbornly down, thick head prying me open as he panted wetly against my neck. There was a thin layer of perspiration beading on the soft skin of his shoulders, stretched taut over quivering muscles, as Kylo kept himself almost impossibly still.

The stretch was bordering on the right side on painful, when Kylo’s thick head finally popped in. I sighed at the feeling, while Kylo groaned helplessly from his hiding place against my neck. I shushed him, rubbing my cheek all over the crown of his head as I cradled his nape in my palm, keeping him close. I treaded my fingers through his thick locks and lowered myself until I was sitting on his thick thighs, taking him completely inside.

Kylo was panting as though he’d been running a marathon, almost hyperventilating, when his cock was seated all the way in. I scratched at his nape, soothingly and a little distractedly, while I allowed my body to adjust to the stretch. He was so thick inside of me, so impossibly huge, that for a long moment I felt as though a wrong movement could’ve split me asunder. And yet, even though I was wet enough between my thighs that the slide had been incredibly easy, my heart was beating steadily into my chest. It was the strangest feeling–almost as though my body was responding to Kylo’s strangled frenzy with a weird, unworldly calm. Fucking was only secondary to the indescribable need to keep him close, keep him safe, as pleasure tore him apart. It was the strangest, spookiest thing I’d ever felt.

Kylo’s voice, trembling and broken, brought me back from my untimely musing.

«Please, Ni» he pleaded, voice barely more than a whisper. «I can’t... it’s-it’s too much. _Please_.»

I felt the deep, quivering neediness of that _please_ right down to my bones. It was as if a huge hand had just squeezed my heart, and blood had rushed throughout my body, pulsing in my temples and between my thighs, where I was stretched around Kylo’s cock.

«Sssssh» I murmured. Kylo whimpered at the first roll of my hips, shivering from head to toes, and my grasp on his nape tightened almost reflexively. I brought my other hand to his chest, feeling the sinewy shape of his muscles tensing under soft skin. His nipple peaked immediately under my palm, and I snapped my hips forward, punching another shivering moan out of his throat. «I got you. Let go, Kylo. I got you.»

Kylo’s only reply was a deep groan, trembling and almost lost, as I braced myself on the hand I’d planted firmly on his chest and lifted my weight, before sinking back onto his cock. I sighed at that thick, perfect glide, his hard cock dragging deliciously against my walls. I bent down and pressed a sweet kiss on the crown of his head, before pulling myself up again and sinking right back.

The push and pull of skin on skin seemed to stretch on and on, after that. Kylo would curl up on himself a little more every time I lifted myself on my knees, but that didn’t stop him from meeting me halfway through with the deepest thrusts that his position would allow. He was holding my hips so tight that I had no doubt I would be sporting the imprints of his fingers for days on my pale skin, but I didn’t really mind. There was place for little else that wasn’t Kylo’s overwhelmed, panting body in my mind, and that was already taken by Ishtar burning black eyes. She was staring at us in silence, kneeling perfectly still at our side, aside for the teasing fingers she kept rubbing against her own clit. Her other hand was cupped loosely around one of her small breasts, idly thumbing the nipple as she drank in the sight of us with such a deep hunger that I could almost taste it. The picture she cut, with the dark lace of her hold-up stockings still stretched around her thighs, was striking, and gloriously filthy.

I didn’t know what possessed me, right then and there–maybe it was the weight of Ishtar’s eyes on me, or the way Kylo was losing himself to the pleasure, deliciously helpless, but the words were out of my mouth before I could process them.

«You are so sweet, Kylo - I murmured, lips pressed against his ear as he shuddered so deeply I felt it right into my bones - So good to us. Our perfect, sweet boy.»

Kylo’s groan ricocheted throughout my body, high and broken, like the wail of a wounded animal. His hips snapped forward, over and over and over, as he panted and whined against my neck. I held him through it, dropping sweet praises into his ear like honey and meeting his thrusts with deep rolls of my hips, screwing myself deeper on his cock at every push. His nails were digging into my sides, but the sting felt delicious, almost unbearably sweet.

«So good. You were made for us, Kylo.» I was babbling, but I didn’t even care. Every word I whispered seemed to spur him on, adding layer over layer of frenzied need to Kylo’s thrusts. « Our beautiful boy. Such a precious, delicate thing - I purred, nipping at his flushed ear - You belong to us. Our sweet, perfect Kylo Ren.»

The words had barely left my lips that Kylo, with a groan so deep it sounded almost pained, thrust his thick cock inside of me as far as it would go in one last, rabid thrust, before slumping against my shoulder. I held him through it, rolling my hips slowly to milk every last shard of his orgasm, until an uncomfortable grumble pushed through his frantic panting. He was shaking so violently that my grasp reflexively tightened, as though he could’ve fallen apart in a heartbeat if I hadn’t been keeping him physically together.

«Ssssh. It was perfect, Kylo. You were so good» I praised him, halting the steady rocking of my hips. I didn’t allow his cock to slip free, though–I held it tightly inside, just as I cradled his body. I looped both my arms around his neck, and I was stroking his hair softly as I pressed my cheek over the crown of his head. Kylo’s arms, eventually, found their way around my back, and he engulfed me in a hug so tight that it was almost painful, but sweeter because of it.

We stayed like that for a long, long time. Kylo was struggling to normalize his breath, panting and gasping against my shoulder for what felt like ages, and I just kept stroking his hair through it, shushing him sweetly as I kept him close. His soft cock eventually slipped out of my body, but I barely registered it, focused as I was on the feeling of feverish skin pressed against my own, and the tickling of sweat-soaked hair against my throat.

Ishtar was wearing the softest smile I’d ever seen on her lips when I turned, looking at her from above Kylo’s head. She crawled close, pressing a sweet kiss on my lips as she looped her arm around Kylo’s shoulders, right beneath my own. She sank her free hand into the sweat-matted hair plastered against my nape, and her cool fingers felt amazing on my skin.

I sighed, when she pressed our foreheads together without saying a word.

«You were right - I murmured - We needed this.»

«I usually am» Ishtar fired back, needling and subtly sweet. «Sex fixes everything.»

I snorted, even if a deep-seated, comforting warmth was spreading all the way throughout my body. I had my doubts about the all-encompassing power of sex, but we _had_ needed it–not sex in itself, but being close enough to touch, to confirm to ourselves that the impossible intimacy we’d shared was real, and not just a figment of our imagination. We were not made for words. Words were confusing, difficult to say and even more to comprehend. The language of our skins was simpler, and its meaning ran much deeper.

«Yes, we are so lucky to have Kylo and his magic dick at our disposal» I deadpanned, dragging an embarrassed mumble from Kylo’s throat and a delighted chuckle from Ishtar’s lips.

«You shouldn’t  underestimate your tits either - she purred, grip tightening on the shorter hair of my nape - They go a long way, I assure you.»

I couldn’t help but laugh at that, and I was surprised at how cheerful and carefree I sounded. I tried to stifle the sound against Kylo’s thick hair, but he was moving, looking at me with warm brown eyes. His breathing had slowed down almost to normal, but there was still a light flush spreading from his cheeks to his collarbones. He glowed pink and happy in the artificial lights, crooked teeth flashing as he aimed a soft, shy smile at us.

Ishtar captured his cheek in the palm of her hand, drawing him forward for a kiss. Kylo went willingly, closing his eyes as she pressed their mouth together, utterly pliant. I watched them for a short while, drinking them in. The distraction provided by the kiss had slackened Kylo’s hold, so I could push myself a little off his chest. I traced the elegant line of his shoulders with my fingertips, before resting my palms against his lean pecs. They felt a little fleshy under my hands, but they weren’t even close to win their title as tits, no matter how much Ishtar insisted on it. I was smirking to myself as I cupped them gently, thumbing the nipples. Kylo mumbled into Ishtar’s mouth as I bent my head to trace a trail of soft kisses along his collarbone, and his cock gave a half-hearted twitch between my legs. Even Kylo and his unsettling stamina needed a little more time to get hard a third time, but his cock was still covered in used latex, and I guess it didn’t feel particularly comfortable.

Kylo’s groan rumbled deeper, as I gently took hold of his soft cock and pulled off the condom. There was a box of Kleenex on the nightstand, and even if I would’ve probably had to wriggle a little in the grip that Kylo was stubbornly keeping around my waist, it was within reach. I tied up the condom, grabbed a handful of tissues and cleaned him up. I tried to keep my touch gentle, but Kylo hissed in the kiss, eventually breaking it up to glance at me. His eyes opened up almost comically wide, as though he was having trouble to register what had just happened. The blush wasn’t really far behind, and he was already flushing deeply as he looked away, gnawing on his bottom lips. His cock twitched again against my thigh, as I balled the tissues and the used condom into my hand and tried to escape his grasp.

«I need to get rid of this - I explained, when Kylo’s grip reflexively tightened - I’ll be right back.»

«Mmmh» Kylo grumbled, probably in some sort of agreement, since he begrudgingly slackened his hold. I still had to wriggle out of it to get free, but eventually I was on my feet, clutching at the ball of dirty tissues in my fist as I made my way to the bathroom.

I had to cross the foyer to get there, and I shivered slightly at the wisp of cool air that licked down my spine. The room was warm, but not as warm as Ishtar’s and Kylo’s bodies, and the cooling sweat on my skin made me ever more acutely aware of the change in temperature. The carpet felt incredibly soft under my feet, and even if normally I would wrinkle my nose at the thought of walking around bare-footed, I was simply too sated and relaxed to care. I could still feel the phantom stretch of Kylo’s thick cock between my thighs, and even if I hadn’t come again, my body was buzzing with how well had been used. Every muscle seemed to ache in the most wonderful way, and I was smiling to myself as I slipped into the enormous bathroom. I threw the ball of dirty tissues and used condom into the bin and washed my hands thoroughly. I was itching for a shower, but I had a nagging suspicion that Kylo and Ishtar would come looking for me like a couple of bloodhounds if I didn’t come out of the bathroom soon, so I just resigned myself to some basic cleaning. Washing the sweat off my face felt good, though, and I was smiling when I went back to the room.

I found Ishtar snuggling under Kylo’s arm, bare thighs finally free of the stockings. Her lithe body was pressed against one of his sides, which left the other free in an open invitation. They really weren’t subtle, I thought, as I climbed onto the bed. Kylo casted me an idle glance when the mattress dipped under my weight, but then he was swept back into the languorous kiss he was sharing with Ishtar. I took my place under Kylo’s free arm, and he immediately curled it possessively around my waist, holding me close. I nuzzled at his shoulder and pressed a hand over his belly, rubbing it in soothing circles. Kylo mumbled low in the kiss at the gentle touch, melting under my palm, and I hid a smile against his skin as I widened the circles, until my hand was skimming the wiry thatch of black hairs on his groin. Eventually, I stopped my rubbing to play idly with them, while Ishtar stroked Kylo’s pecs and teased his peaked nipples.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, exchanging lazy kisses and even lazier touches. It was almost as though I was familiarizing all over again with their bodies, their skin, as I traced the inseam of Kylo’s thighs or cupped Ishtar’s breasts into my palms. I sucked lazy hickeys in Kylo’s neck and peppered his shoulders with soft kisses, while I caressed his thick cock. I could feel Ishtar’s fingers pinch and roll my nipples when I kissed him deep, fondling gently his testicles in my palm as he stroked my back with his huge, warm hand. Kylo would sigh and mumble and gasp in the kisses, but our touches were mostly aimless petting, and he never got more than half-hard. He would’ve probably been good for another go, if we demanded it, but he seemed just as happy to enjoy our closeness, touching us and kissing us and being touched and kissed. Even Ishtar seemed unwilling to break the spell, not even to ride Kylo’s cock or eat me out. I knew it wouldn’t last long, but for now she looked content enough to share gentle, teasing caresses, without getting more serious than petting Kylo’s cock or cupping my mound, stroking her thumb against my trimmed blond hairs.

It was an indefinite amount of time later that she stirred, arching her back gracefully in Kylo’s tight grasp. Kylo followed the languorous movement with something like awe burning in his eyes.

«What time is it?» Ishtar asked, with a lazy yawn. I could relate–the sex and the cuddling had made me drowsy as well. I mumbled incoherently against Kylo’s shoulder, taking my time to nuzzle gently at the skin before finally lifting my head and looking for anything resembling a clock. I found one, eventually–embedded deeply into the wall and shining of a bright green.

«Almost eight» I answered, before plastering myself back against Kylo with a happy sigh. It was ridiculous, really, but an hour or so of gentle cuddling had relaxed me so completely that I wanted nothing more than just staying where I was for the foreseeable future. The fact that I was still naked and that Kylo seemed to give off heath like a furnace did nothing to help. Then Kylo’s stomach, obviously without any input or approval from its owner, gave a loud rumble.


End file.
